


Of Bullies and Butterflies

by cuphugaddict



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, F/M, Football Player Liam Payne, Football | Soccer Player Louis Tomlinson, High School, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Beta Read, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25462504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuphugaddict/pseuds/cuphugaddict
Summary: Seventeen year-old Harry had to move from London to live with his aunt Tilda in the picturesque town Lower Tadford. Since he got bullied for being different (read: gay) in his old school, he and his mother had decided that it would be best to start the new school year in a new town – get a fresh start and so on. However, things did not improve for Harry, who is still the constant target of the football jocks. As things escalate one night and the teenager falls victim to a hate crime, things slowly start to change. On top of that list is Harry’s relationship to one Louis Tomlinson: footballer, bully and Harry’s newly appointed team partner in English Lit.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first 1D fan fiction - and sometimes I wonder how I got here :)  
> Still, I am happy I did and I hope you guys enjoy my story.
> 
> Trigger Warning: As mentioned in the summary, this fic deals with a homophobic attack on a teenager. If this holds any triggers for you, please skip chapter one - and possibly chapter two as well.  
> It is not too graphic, but just to be on the safe side. Plus: If you think that this story misses a tag, please do tell me.
> 
> English is not my first language, so I do hope I did not mess up too much in the chappies.  
> Also: I have no idea about the school system in England. I have done some basic research but please be gentle with minor (or major) mistakes there.
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day <3

Harry scooped the flour and the butter quickly into his bag, accompanied by a purchase of his own choice: Ben and Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake. He grinned as he imagined the sour face his aunt Tilda would make but would ultimately end up eating just as much as him. There were alike like that. Pushing his long curly hair out of his face, he quickly thanked the cashier – not without receiving a displeased look – and left the store. The impeccable mood over his ice cream purchase, however, quickly faded into oblivion: Right there, in the parking spot in front of the store, stood the entirety of his tormentors: Charlie, the captain of the football team, as well as Lee, Blake, Ben and, of course, Louis.

Being highly aware of the fact that it was past ten at night and the streets of their picturesque little town were absolutely deserted, Harry prepared for the worst – although he really wasn’t sure what the worst was. At school, there were other people around, at least. Now though …

“Well, well, well. Look who we’ve got here!” Charlie exclaimed joyfully. “If it isn’t the little town faggot himself.”

Harry kept his eyes firmly on the ground and weighed his options. Should he run? No point, there were chasing a goddamn ball around a field for 90 minutes. And needless to say, he had never been the best athlete. Back into the store? They would simply follow him in there and back out again. He doubted that the girl at the cashier’s desk would call the cops on the town royalty (who she probably salivated over anyway). To him, the safest option was to venture towards his bike and hope that they would not run him over with their pompous Range Rover.

“Hey, princess!” Ben shouted after him, “Look at us when we’re talking to you.”

“She’s being impolite”, Louis yelled. As Harry felt someone jerking him back by his sweatshirt he just knew it was Tomlinson. “Now: I don’t care about the manners of you and your other gay friends back in London, but here, you look at people when you talk to one another.”

Harry took a deep breath. He mustn’t loose his nerve; not over some idiots like the football jocks. He raised his gaze and looked Louis straight into his (admittedly) beautiful blue eyes: “When people talk to me, I look at them. When they talk at me and harass me, I choose not to. Except when they challenge me like you just did, Tomlinson.” The curly-headed boy just hoped that he sounded at least the slightest bit intimidating. He certainly didn’t feel like it did.

“What did you say?” Blake shouted and even Louis’ head whipped around at his tone. “You dare talk to us like that, you dirty cocksucker?”

“I’ll deal with him, he talked back to me …” Louis snarled and Harry already wished that he never had spoken up. Then again, he had never been known to shut up when it was wise, so there was that. And he did have a little pride left, after all.

Charlie however approached with a mean grin, “Oh no, he talked back to all of us, so it is the five of us who will teach the little faggot some manners …” Harry broke out of Louis’ death grip and tried to make it to his bike, but it was useless. As soon as he had one of his hands on the handlebars, he was whipped back and his head crashed onto the bike. Groaning, he tumbled down onto the ground and felt warm liquid spill over his face. There was the blood then.

Harry tried his best to minimize the damage and curled himself into a tight ball, but it was useless. After kicking him in the head a few times, he got dizzy and his resolve crumbled. Once his strength weakened, the five boys separated his arms from his knees and started to not only kick his face, but also his chest, belly and groin. He was sure that the sounds he made were quite pitiful, but all he could hear were the sounds of gravel crunching as the five guys around him moved, and the muffled blows to his body. At some point, he felt something spilling above him – thankfully, he was too dizzy to even think about what that was … And suddenly they were gone. Just like that. The last thing Harry felt was that the insides of his stomach were emptying themselves. Like on autopilot, he turned to his side before he blacked out.

The next time Harry opened his eyes, everything was white.

The bright light hurt his eyes, so he hurriedly squeezed them shut again. Apparently, he must have made some noise while doing so because the next time he open them again, more carefully this time, his field of vision wasn’t white anymore. Well, not entirely at least. There was still the white ceiling but the blinding lights were blocked by his aunt Tilda, his mother (and when did she get here?!), someone who was clearly a nurse and all of a sudden, Niall’s head appeared at the bottom of the bed and – Jesus Christ – how did his best friend’s eyes get to that shade of red?

“Uh …” Harry muttered and tried to move when a sharp pain shot from his shoulder through his whole body. “Mum?” he croaked and was shocked at how his voice sounded to him.

His mother smiled at him, also with tears in her eyes and reached out for his face. Midway, however, she stopped herself and Harry felt her touching his hand. “Harry darling, how are you feeling?” she asked.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

Suddenly, a cup of water with a straw appeared in his general field of vision: “Here Harry, drink.”

Slowly, he looked over at his aunt, who smiled at him and shook the cup slightly, “Your usually angelic voice sounds horrible. Positively satanic.”

Harry chuckled and immediately started to cough. Despite that, he was glad that his aunt was still the person in the room who tried to cheer everyone up – even though he had almost chocked to death at his attempt of laughter. He accepted the water with a smile. The liquid tasted heavenly – which was probably why at first, he didn’t notice how his hand looked. When his eyes landed on his hand, however, he dropped the cup.

“Oh! Never mind, love”, the nurse said and was promptly at his side with a towel. “No harm done. I’ll see that the doctor will be here in a minute.”

“What. The. Fuck?!” Harry said and looked at his hand. It was a mixture of red and blue. And it had stitches. His hand had stitches. “What the hell happened?!” Harry exclaimed in shock and realized that he started shaking. It felt like someone had dropped a ton of bricks in his belly and he suddenly felt a chill creeping down his spine. “Oh my baby”, his mother said and carefully started to caress his face. “Mum, please, what happened?” Harry asked again, noticing that he started to cry. He couldn’t even understand why – he was just so confused.

“Everything’s fine, darling. You’re fine”, Tilda said from his right and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, the doctor will be here in a minute.”

“Why doesn’t anybody tell me what happened?” Harry shouted as loud as he could.

“Hello Harry, I am Doctor Wells”, a woman in her forties introduced herself after she, too, materialised next to his bed. “And I will tell you everything that happened and happily answer all of your questions. But I have to ask you one thing first. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Harry took a deep breath – and nodded, “Yes.”

Tilda and his Mum smiled at him encouragingly while Niall still looked like he would pass out any second. Harry tried to focus on the doctor. She smiled, “Harry, I want to take your time with this. What is the last thing you remember?”

The curly-haired by nodded and bit his lip – a terrible habit – and winced. He supposed he had bruises there to. What was the last thing he remembered?

He was with aunt Tilda, who wanted to make some sort of sourdough bread she’s read about on Pinterest or something. And she needed flour … and butter. And he had driven to the store. And he had gotten ice cream. And he had excited the store and … Oh.

“I think I got … beaten up. When I was exciting the store. Is that why I am in here?” Harry asked flabbergasted.

“Yes Harry, that’s why you’ve been in hospital for about a week.”

“A WEEK?!” Harry screamed but started coughing again, his chest almost killing him in the process.

When he recovered, his mother was still smiling at him, albeit with more tears in her eyes, Tilda was dangling the newly filled water cup in front of him and Niall was full-on crying right now, even if he did so quietly. Great, just great.

“Your injuries were severe, Harry. We had to put you through surgery and kept you in a coma for a week so that your body could focus on healing. We had to reconstruct one of your ribs since it splintered. Two more ribs were broken and you have a bruising of your torso. So we will keep you on pain medication for another week or two so you don’t have any troubles breathing. Your knee was dislocated, your left arm is broken and you have a lot of bruises. The good news in all this? You can remember what happened to you so, clearly, you do not suffer from amnesia. This really is the important part. And you are recovering nicely from your injuries; your vitals look very good. We’ll see how long you’ll have to stay in here and when we can transfer you home. We’ll decide in a few days. Do you have any more questions, Harry?”

Dumfounded, Harry shook his head. He did not feel like he had all this … bruising and broken bones and everything. Which was probably due to the surely heavy painkillers he was on.

It seemed like Niall had held his guard as best as he could as long as Doctor Wells had been here – now that she was gone, he started sobbing uncontrollably. “Niall …” Harry said and reached out his left hand – in a case because, right, that one was broken too. This took way more strength than it should, Harry realised, and in a second, Niall was holding his hand. “I’m sorry Harry … I’m so sorry”, his best friend sobbed.

“What on earth are you apologising for?” Harry chuckled and the Irish boy who had bonded so easily with Harry as soon as he had moved in with his aunt shook his head.

“You should be the one crying not me … but … Jesus Christ Harry, you’ve been in a coma for a week. It was scary Harry, and … Shit, what they did to you …” Niall clamped his mouth shout, squeezed Harry’s hand carefully and shook his head.

“I’m fine, Niall. I mean … maybe not _fine_ fine, but I’ll get there. You heard the doctor, she said it would all be okay …” he smiled at how hard his best mate fought to stop his tears from spilling. “Come here”, he said and waved Niall towards himself so he could ruffle the other boys’ hair exactly the way he knew Niall hated. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

“Of course you will, you clearly survived the worst part …” Aunt Tilda commented from his right and Harry shot her a blinding grin. She winked back at him.

“Those assholes, I feel like I could kill them …” Niall muttered, still holding Harry’s hand with a lot of care, but Tilda shushed him. Then she turned towards Harry yet again: “Harry love, you shouldn’t concern yourself with this right now, but as we have no clue when they will turn up”, Harry briefly wondered who they were and frowned, “The police will speak to you. Someone will pay you a visit and ask you all kinds of questions about the night the attack happened. And you’ll have to answer them as best as you can.”

Harry’s mother shook her head, “Is this really necessary right now, Tilda?”

“Of course it is!” his aunt exclaimed, “Just imagine the police barging in here and asking all kinds of crap – sorry, boys – and Harry’s not prepared. He has to be.” Then she turned towards Harry again, “I’m not saying they will be here in an hour or something, but someone will come. And you have to try and remember as much as you can …”

Harry gulped, “I’d rather just forget about it all, to be honest …”

Tilda nodded resolutely, “And you can. Once you’ve told the police about it. Of course, there will be a counsellor with them, just in case. They’ve already said that you won’t have to show up in court …”

“In court?!” Harry exclaimed and looked confused from his aunt to his mother and back again. _Whatever were they talking about?_

His mother sniffled quietly, “They have committed a hate crime, love. Those end up in court.”

Harry felt like someone had smacked him in the face – which was ironic, considering his current situation. “In court?” Harry echoed yet again and was too stunned to feel stupid about it. Harry’s eyes were glued to his mother who only nodded. “But …” Harry scrunched his nose, “… this can’t go to court”, he said, panic slowly settling in. “I mean … It’s not even that bad.”

“NOT THAT BAD?!” Niall exclaimed and was promptly scolded by aunt Tilda, who was well acquainted with Harry’s best friends’ antics. “Harry, you have been in a coma for a week, for fuck’s sake!”

“Niall James Horan, this is your last warning”, Tilda countered, waving her finger at the blonde.

Niall bit his lip, “Sorry, sorry. But Jesus, Harry, how can you say it’s not that bad? They’ve beaten you up in a parking spot. They left you lying there, bleeding and …” The blonde shook his head. “What if you hadn’t turned your head? You could have suffocated …”

Harry vaguely remembered that he had turned to his side one he felt that he was about to vomit. Apparently, his body worked pretty well on autopilot. “This can’t go to court …” Harry felt his nerves flaring up, “I mean, I can never go back to school if they get convicted. I can move again. Mum, I can’t move again! I’ve done this once, I can’t …” Harry felt the tears falling freely.

“Oh baby, you don’t have to move again, I promise …” his mother said and carefully caressed Harry’s hair.

“But Mum, they already hate me now. What if I get the football guys a conviction? They’ll crucify me …” Harry sobbed, the whole year he had planned crumbled right before his eyes.

“No one hates you, don’t be ridiculous …” Tilda said but all Harry could think about was that she didn’t know a thing. He wasn’t as strong as she was when it came to people’s opinion about oneself.

Niall patted Harry’s hand, “Don’t worry, Cowell has suspended the five of them already – until the trial is over. Then he’ll re-evaluate the whole thing. At least he said so.”

Headmaster Cowell had suspended five of the football guys? “What?!” Harry asked flabbergasted.

“Yeah”, Niall said, “The day after the … thing, he called all students into the auditorium and started at how our school did not tolerate discrimination of any kind. Above all, if there was violence involved. Then, he called Charlie, Ben, Blake, Louis and Lee out – publicly, it was scary, Harry – and suspended them right on the spot. I’ve never seen anything like it. The time that Gary had let all the frogs in biology loose? Nothing in comparison, I tell you … Not that this is anything like the frog-incident” Niall added quickly, “’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry smiled weakly. He couldn’t believe it. People had been suspended because of him – and he really didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand he wanted to scream _Yeah, finally!_ but on the other hand he did not want to be responsible for negative influence on someone’s future.

Apparently, the confusion on his face showed because Tilda carefully took his other hand, “What’s on your mind, willow?”

Harry grinned at the nickname. “I just …” he tried desperately to get his thoughts in order. “Okay, so: I feel good about the fact that they got the suspension. They deserve it. Not only because of … this”, he waved his head about just slightly because both of his hands were held in a death grip, “but because of the endless bullying in school. They deserve it and I’m not sorry for saying so.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t”, Niall muttered.

“But …” Harry continued, “What if this messes with their lives? I mean … suspension, conviction and all that. It sounds scary. And I do not want to be responsible for ruining someone’s life …”

“Harry love”, aunt Tilda started, “Sometimes you are too good for this world.”

Niall helpfully supplied an “A-men”.

Aunt Tilda squeezed his hand, “This is not your fault. How could this be your fault? They did this to themselves. And actions like these have consequences. It’s better they learn that early on. It will only help them in their future life.”

“But they are town royalty, Aunt Tilda”, Harry whined, “How will everyone react? They’ll hate us … me … us, I don’t know. They’ll bully us when we go shopping, at school, at home …”

“It won’t come to that, love”, his mother said, “Everyone was shocked that something like this happened in their little town.”

“Yeah, because it was out in the open …” Niall added sarcastically, not unfamiliar with bullying himself. As the lad who moved here from Ireland, he had never been accepted in the school’s football team.

“Be that as it may”, Tilda jumped in, “This will change things, I am sure about that. Let’s just hope it will change things for the better.” Harry sincerely hoped that as well. “And if it doesn’t”, Harry’s aunt continued, “I’ll get geese.”

“Geese?” Harry asked confused.

“Indeed. Geese. They are just as capable of guarding a house as a dog is, and you know I’ve never liked dogs.” A predictable snort form Niall’s direction followed. “And they have a flair of the dramatic, don’t you think so? With flailing their wings an all that.”

Harry started to chuckle, knowing that anyone who would consider this a joke would be proven wrong. Soon that other joined in. “Geese …” Harry muttered under his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully, Harry’s presence was not required at the trial.

At first, he had been determined to attend. Show the world and himself that he was strong enough to do so. However, everyone wanted the matter to be dealt with as soon as possible and, the harsh reality was that Harry simply couldn’t sit still for so long. Or sit at all. Or could travel to Brighton, since Lower Tadford did not have a courthouse or the according authorities to hold a trial like that.

According to Doctor Wells, he was healing quite nicely so he had been allowed to be transferred to Aunt Tilda’s place, but sitting for more than a two hour movie on the telly (with at least three cushions with horrible rose patterns) still was rather painful on his torso. He got all the news from his mother, his aunt and Niall, of course.

At first, Harry had been sure that the trial would not lead to the five boys’ conviction. Not only because he still believed that the town would silently be happy about what their football darlings had done, but also because after his talk with the police, he was certain that he hadn’t been any help at all. He hadn’t even been able to answer the most basic question. Sure, he had known that the five guys had been in the parking spot, but who had kicked his ribs? No idea. Who had stepped on his arm? It would help if he recognised a trainer brand …? Nope, no such luck either. Had he heard any voices? Had someone said something? Shouted at him? Harry had no idea.

The more it surprised him that all five football players had been considered as guilty – as Niall had told him, waving his hands in the air as he had entered Aunt Tilda’s house that day. Charlie, Ben, Blake and Lee were expelled from school right on the spot. Harry couldn’t believe it. Louis however – and this was the biggest surprise for Harry – was not. He was on probation and had to do a _shit ton_ , quote Niall, of social work, but he could stay. At Harry’s flabbergasted “What?!” Niall had only risen his eyebrows: “Get this Harry, he was the one who called the ambulance that day …”

“What?” Harry exclaimed again, highly aware that since his hospitalisation he started sounding like his own echo. The curly-headed boy had always assumed that it had been the girl in the grocery store who had finally decided to take pity on him. But no, apparently it had been one Louis Tomlinson. Niall told him over a soda on the terrace of Aunt Tilda’s house that, apparently, he had gotten out of the car at his house and immediately called the ambulance. The police had proven it via his mobile phone. Needless to say, Harry was struck at the revelation.

“Just to be absolutely clear: Louis? Louis has called the ambulance? The Louis who has always publicly insulted me on the school’s corridor? Who shoved me into lockers more times than I can count?”

“The very one …” Niall confirmed, “Trust me, I am more confused than you are. It just doesn’t make any sense …”

“Maybe it was the event he needed to get his head out of his …. behind”, Aunt Tilda jumped in while she filled the boys’ glasses up with her homemade rosemary lavender soda. Harry chuckled and Niall winked at Tilda. Both of them found it hilarious how the woman in her early fifties liked to curse as much as they did, but felt as she had to mask it in front of them.

“How so?” Harry wanted to know.

Tilda sighed, “Louis used to be such a nice boy. Always polite, always laughing.”

Harry rose his eyebrows. He had moved to Lower Tadford about a year ago after there had been another, yet different incident at his school in London. Originally venturing towards an artsy career, where London, of course, had been perfect, he went to an according high school. And then he had fallen in love with a guy from his design class. Misinterpreting the entire situation, he had attempted to kiss the other student – the son of the headmaster. Of course, _of course_ he had been straight and thereafter made life a living hell for Harry. It had gotten to a point where he only had wanted to leave – career in the creative industries be damned. Which was why he had moved in with his awesome aunt who lived in the English countryside … where everything had started all over again (sans the kiss). Needless to say, he had never had the pleasure to encounter the polite and laughing Louis Tomlinson. No, the guy he knew was always scowling, sneering and bullying each and every one who was different to the football jocks. That excluded the girls whom they were trying to charm the pants off … but only until they had charmed their pants off. Then it was all dirty talk about what they had done with them. Harry only rolled his eyes. _As if_ he had thought more often than not.

All in all, he thought those guys to be despicable.

“You remember that, Niall, you must …” his aunt’s statement interrupted Harry’s train of thought.

Niall shrugged, “Yeah, I think so. Right when we had moved here. I met him in the grocery store once, our mothers chatting away, we got bored. We crept out of the store and started kicking a ball around. And he told me that he wanted to get on the football team … Funny, I had completely forgotten about that …” Niall mused.

Harry only snorted, “Yeah, a few years of his assholeness might do that to you.”

“Harold Edward Styles!” Tilda exclaimed, “Language!”

Harry grinned up at her cheekily, “You know very well that my given name is not _Harold_.”

“I do not care. It sounds more intimidating that way”, his aunt replied, sitting down at an unoccupied chair herself. Niall chuckled and Harry smiled at her. At least the London-disaster had been good for something – he loved living with his aunt.

Tilda seemed unfazed by his cockiness and drew her colourful shawl closer around her shoulders, “I suppose it all started when his mother died, poor thing.”

Harry opened his eyes in confusion but Niall only nodded, “Yeah, a few years back. Leukaemia. It was all really quick and they took it very hard. And then Fizzy died too …” Yeah, Harry had heard about that one.

Tilda shook her head, “They have a hard lot, the Tomlinsons, truly. I don’t want to play his actions down, Harry, you must know this. But I think that their father didn’t handle it very well. Not surprising …” Tilda tilted her head.

“Why’s that?” Harry wanted to know.

His aunt shrugged, “Well, he was never been the most outgoing person – makes one wonder about why Jay married him in the first place – but after her death it got worse. I hardly see him in town anymore, working from his home office and everything. He hasn’t overcome his grief, if you ask me …”

“Huh”, was all Harry could say. He had always imagined Louis as the heartless bully, but hearing the story about his mother’s death … He became more human that way. Inwardly, he made a decision. He kept quiet about it for the rest of the day, however.

Only when, after a day full of delicious food, some crap telly and lots of (careful) hugs, Harry’s Mum had gone back to London – she had put her job on hold for long enough after all – Harry turned towards Aunt Tilda in the evening.

“Tilda?”

“Yes darling?” she said absentmindedly, focussing on her knitting pattern whilst the two of them watched Celebrity Bake Off.

Harry bit his healing lip, “I think I wanna do something …”

“Well, I’m afraid bungee jumping is out of the question for the foreseeable future”, she said, adjusting her glasses while finally looking over at Harry.

The seventeen year-old rolled his eyes, “I was thinking more of freerunning …”

His aunt looked pointedly at him. Harry grinned, “Rodeo?”

“Young man, I have to focus on my crafting. So what were you thinking about?” Tilda said with a smile on her face.

Harry gulped, “I think I want to go and visit Louis.” At his aunt’s shocked face, he elaborated, “You know, to say thank you. If he hadn’t called the ambulance, who knows where I’d be today. We’re never going to be friends, obviously, but I still want to thank him ‘cause it’s the right thing to do. Plus: I’ll be meeting him in school anyway; I’d rather have it out of the way.”

Tilda nodded, “I see your point. And if you want to do that, we can. I’ll drive you over. But I will accompany you inside – or the two of you will both stay outside. There’s no way I’ll let you be alone in his company.”

“Fair. Nor would I want you to.” Harry smiled at his aunt, “Thanks, Aunt Tilda … Oh, and something else”, he added after a little while. In answer to two raised eyebrows, he elaborated, “Can we please tell Mum after we have been there? She’ll get a heart attack and would return to Lower Tadford straight away.”

“Very true”, Tilda waved one of her knitting needles at him. “When do you want to commence operation _Thank the homophobe_?”

Harry spluttered, immediately holding his ribs which still gave him a hard time. “How about we put it behind us as quickly as we can and do it tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is no good, willow, I have to drive over to the market. And Niall promised to come over with your homework. Oh! And don’t you have an appointment with your counsellor as well?” Harry sighed. Yep, he had. “But the day after maybe?” His aunt looked at him expectantly.

Harry nodded, “Great. I’ll have more time to mentally prepare myself for the secret operation.” Tilda nodded, while the teenager thought of something else: “Also: Let’s not tell Niall either, he’d probably faint.”

Tilda chuckled quietly. “It was endearing how hard he’d fought his tears at the hospital. Darling boy.”

Harry smiled. Yep, Niall was amazing. Looking back, he’d never had a friend like Niall in London. Sure, he’d had acquaintances that he’d considered friends, but he didn’t think that any of them would have brought home his schoolwork and had spent hours explaining maths and biology so that Harry would not have to take the entire year again. The curly-headed boy was so happy that he had run right into Niall on his first day at their school and that the first words out of the Irish boys’ mouth were “Oh God, are you okay? Hey, nice shirt.” Harry had just known that they would be getting along great.

“Yeah, he’s taken everything pretty hard …” Harry agreed. He just wondered how everything would be for _him_ once he was allowed back to school. Right now, he was fine. To be completely honest, he was quite surprised that he hadn’t had a mental breakdown or something similar. Apart from a few nightmares which were absolutely normal according to his therapist, he was alright. But once he had to return to school, the story could be a different one. Well, he would have to wait and see, he guessed.

“And now, Harry love, let’s focus on the crystal cakes those important people are making on TV”, Tilda said before she got back to her knitting. Harry guessed that it would be a scarf that needed finishing before tomorrow’s trip to the market. His aunt frequently sold herbs, teas, all kinds of homemade foodstuffs as well as clothes she made herself. To be honest, Harry thought it was incredibly cool, even though it was only at a local market.

The next day, Niall first updated Harry on biology class and their English assignment. “But that won’t be a problem for you now Harry, will it?” Niall smirked. “And while we’re at it: Could you please, _please_ ” the blonde feigned fainting and Harry crackled up, “help me with mine as well? I’ll do your maths homework in turn.”

“You suck at maths, Niall”, Harry interjected.

Niall’s hand flew to his heart, “You wound me deeply, Styles. I might suck at maths, but I’m still better than you …”

“True”, Harry agreed and both chuckled. They settled on Niall trying his best at maths while Harry would write two different essays about Wilde’s _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. He could totally do that; it wasn’t as if he hadn’t read it three times already.

“Uhm yeah, Harry, listen. There is something I wanted to talk to you about …” Niall started after Harry had taken another bite of Aunt Tilda’s pie which she had left for them.

“O-kay”, he replied with a mouth full of blackberries, curious where this was headed. “Why are you acting all nervous?”

The other boy scratched his neck, “Today … ah … Coach Corden has asked me …”

Harry waved his uninjured hand in the air, “Woah, what?! When did Corden get coach?” Up to his knowledge, Corden was their drama and music teacher. He didn’t even know that the guy had once taught sports … or anything alike.

Niall crooked his head, “Well, uhm … In light of recent events … there have been some … changes. Ah, that had to be made and … uhm … Coach Wilkins has been … transferred.”

“WHAT??!” Niall only nodded. “So Corden is coach now?” Niall nodded again.

“Dear God”, Harry exclaimed. His mind wandered back to that one memorable PE lesson where he had to stand in for Mr. Wilkins and they had played Dodgeball. It had been horrible.

“Yeah.” Niall nodded yet again and Harry was sure he was thinking about the exact same thing.

“I mean”, Harry waved his arms in the air as best as he was able to with his cast on, “A BALL IN YOUR FACE!” he mimicked Mr. Corden.

Niall closed his eyes, still nodding, “I know.”

The brown-haired boy took a deep breath, “Okay, that’s something to get used to. … What did he ask you then?” he wanted to know.

“Right, right …” Niall said, scratching the back of his neck _again_. It must be something pretty big then, Harry assumed. “Uhm … he asked me … if I wanted to join the football team.”

A blinding smile stretched across Harry’s face, “Niall, that’s brilliant! I’m so happy for you.”

His friend looked up at him with such joy in his eyes that Harry had seldom seen before, “Really?”

“Yeah, are you kidding me? This is great! You wanted to be on the football team for so long anyway …” Harry remembered the long talks they had had when Niall had been rejected last year … and this year. The brown-haired boys’ heart had broken right along with Niall’s.

Niall beamed, “Great, I’m so glad you think so Harry.”

“Why the hell would I think differently?” Harry asked, mirroring Niall’s grin.

The blonde shrugged, “Well, you know. I’ll have to be on a team with … Louis. And I didn’t know if you’d be okay with that so I thought I’d ask you first. Before I accepted, I mean.”

“You really waited to ask me if I was okay with it before you agreed to your childhood dream?” Harry couldn’t believe it. Niall just nodded and after some time he said, “I wouldn’t accept if you had a problem with it, honestly.”

Harry sighed, “Niall James Horan, if you weren’t so straight I would kiss you right now.”

Niall chuckled, “You can kiss me anyway. But don’t expect anything to happen in the downstairs region.”

Harry laughed out loudly and leaned over, planting a wet kiss right on Niall’s neck. “EW!” the Irishman shrieked and of course that was the exact moment his aunt returned home from the market.

“Am I disturbing anything, boys? I have always been under the impression that you were straight, Niall. Was I mistaken? Otherwise we need to have a serious word about the sleepovers in the previous year …” She looked expectantly – and with an abundance of mock – at both of them.

“Niall is just a darling, that’s why I kissed him. Nothing to worry about, Aunt Tilda.” Harry beamed up at her.

“As if the shriek wouldn’t have been a clue …” the blonde muttered.

“Oh, good. Good. Right … Carry on boys, as you were. I need to find a place for the kumquat tree I bought today.” And off she was.

“A kumquat tree?” Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

“Why are we even surprised?”

Harry had to admit that Niall was right.


	3. Chapter 3

Operation _Thank the homophobe_ was in full swing.

This meant that Harry was currently wobbling over, the hand without the cast clutching a crutch, to the Tomlinson’s house. Aunt Tilda had offered to steady Harry but he had declined. If he was facing Louis, he would do so with as much dignity and bravado as possible (which as very little anyway, given his current state of being). What they did have, as Aunt Tilda had pointed out, was the moment of surprise and Harry intended to take full advantage of it.

Despite his inward pep-talk, his hand shook slightly as he reached out to ring the doorbell of the nice brick house a little out of the town centre. Thinking back, it had probably taken Charlie (who had been the driver on that fateful day a little more than four weeks back) maybe five minutes to drop Louis off. Thank God.

A few seconds after Harry had rung, trampling feet could be heard inside the house. The curly-headed boy held his breath and felt the hand of Aunt Tilda on his back. _Maybe this was a bad idea …_ Harry thought. _Why did I even think about doing this?_

Suddenly, the door whipped open and revealed a girl around ten, missing one of her front teeth. “Yes?” she asked.

“Uhm … I’m Harry … ah, is …” Harry started stammering.

“PHOEBE! How many times have I told you NOT to open the door …” Louis voice hollered through the house, coming closer and closer until he showed up right behind his sister, “… like that”, he finished a lot more quietly than before.

“Hi”, Harry tried and he couldn’t help himself, Louis looked as if he were about to drop unconscious any second. Then, his eyes flickered from the deep cut on Harry’s forehead to his crutch and his leg brace.

Nobody said a word for a few incredibly awkward seconds, until the little girl piped up: “I’m not Phoebe, I’m Daisy.”

“No you’re not”, Louis scolded her, “Go back to your homework.”

The girl, Phoebe, apparently, did no such thing. Instead, she turned to Harry: “You’re the one Louis’ friends have beaten up, right?”

Harry grinned awkwardly, “It’s rather obvious, I’m afraid, isn’t it?”

“Phoebe, for God’s sake, GO!” Louis scolded her again, pushing her back into the house. Harry could only hear a quiet “Rude!” from the inside. He had to say that he rather liked Phoebe. Then, he had to gulp because Louis looked at him with those incredibly blue eyes and he had no idea what to say.

“Twins”, Louis said all of a sudden.

“Beg your pardon?” Harry asked confused and Louis blushed.

“They’re … uhm … Phoebe and Daisy are twins so … That’s why she said she was Daisy.”

“Ah”, Harry answered unintelligibly, “I see.”

Someone cleared their throat behind Harry and it was only then that he realised that his aunt was still standing behind him. “As I feel that this incredibly awkward exchange will take some more time and Harry’s not too sure on his feet yet, would you mind terribly of we came in, young man?”

“Of course, sorry …” Louis blushed even more and shuffled to the side. Harry could not help himself, he had never heard Louis apologise before – much less to him.

“Thank you”, Aunt Tilda said and guided Harry inside. In the house, Louis offered them both a seat at the couch (haphazardly cleared of all stuffed toys lying around). “Uh, I’d offer you some tea but … I’m afraid we’re out of milk.”

Harry thought that he had to be dreaming. He sat on a sofa with an awful floral pattern (it even beat some of Aunt Tilda’s cushions and that was very hard to achieve), plush toys strewn around the entire living room and Louis bloody Tomlinson in the middle of it, offering them tea. Or, almost offering them tea. Because they had run out of milk. Maybe his pain meds were stronger than the doctors had let on …

“That won’t be necessary, Louis, thank you. Harry, would you like me to help you out of your jacket?” Aunt Tilda asked, already taking off her bright orange poncho.

Harry blushed, “Uh, no. Thank you Aunt Tilda.” And really, how embarrassing was this? But, truth to be told, he was not yet flexible enough to it on his own. This is why he preferred to let his emerald wool coat on in the first place.

“Very well then, I’ll let you boys talk …” the red-haired woman announced but of course, she kept sitting right next to Harry. Something that was to be expected, though.

“Right, uhm Louis … What I came here to say is this: I want to thank you. For … For calling the ambulance.” Harry kneaded the hem of his woollen coat relentlessly due to his nervousness. In an attempt of bravery, he looked up and saw the other teenager stare dumbfounded at him.

After a few painful seconds of painful silence, Harry cleared his throat: “You alright?”

“Uhm … yeah, well …” Louis stammered while he let his long arms dangle a little back and forth at his sides. “I … To be honest, I cannot believe that you are here to thank me.”

Harry smiled a little, “I wanted to. If you hadn’t called the ambulance …” Every time the brown-haired teenager thought about it, a shiver ran down his spine, “… things would have been much, much worse. So uhm … I just wanted you to know that.”

“Thanks …” Louis whispered and started bouncing back and forth on his feet unconsciously. The footballer nodded … and nodded and nodded. It was getting more awkward by the second. And then: “Harry …”

The teenager’s head snapped up, “Yes?”

Louis opened and closed his mouth a few times and Harry was at a loss. He had never seen the other teenager like this. It seemed as he was trying to say something but for the life of him couldn’t find the words. This insecurity had never shown when Harry had seen Louis in school. It was almost as if a different person was standing before him.

Suddenly, he took a deep breath and looked straight at the curly-headed boy, “Harry, I … I am so, so sorry.” Again, Harry felt as if someone had smacked him in the face. Had Louis just apologised to him? “For uh, everything. But most of all that I haven’t done anything that … that day. I’m sorry.”

“Ah … thanks. Thank you Louis.” Harry tried a smile. He didn’t know if he succeeded though. The other boy bit his lip and they just continued not-really looking at each other.

In that very moment, Harry was glad this his aunt was there. “Well then”, she started, “So glad that that is out of the way. Louis, you’re allowed to continue at our local school, right?”

The addressed teenager nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good. So you can continue this lovely exchange then. Right now, I think Harry is a little tired. I think we better get going, right Harry?” The curly-headed boy could have kissed his aunt.

“Yeah”, he got up clumsily, leaning heavily on his crutch and he thanked the heavens that his aunt did let him do that on his own. Getting up like that was embarrassing in itself, but not as embarrassing as needing help while doing a simple task of getting up of a horrendous sofa. Having heaved himself off the same, he looked at Louis, slightly out of breath. He realised that he other teenager looked at him like a deer in the headlights. _Yes, this is what you and your pals did to me_ , Harry thought and felt a little bit happier in his skin. Nothing wrong with showing them the consequences of their bullying.

Harry turned around, “Alright, so … uh, see you at school I guess …”

“Yeah, yeah”, Louis whispered and Harry wobbled over to the door. He did so a little more slowly than necessary. On purpose. Sue him.

“We’ll see ourselves out”, Aunt Tilda said but Louis sprinted over to the door and opened it for Harry. The curly-headed boy had to supress a grin.

“So, uh, bye”, Louis said as both walked by.

Aunt Tilda gave him a smile, “Good afternoon, Louis. Give your siblings and your father my greetings.” And then they were off.

“That was one terrified young man, we’ve met today.”

Harry snorted, “He better be. Maybe it’ll teach him a lesson …” He and his aunt were sitting over the Quiche Lorraine Tilda had prepared in the spacious kitchen.

“You didn’t have to rub it in like that though”, his aunt chastised him. Harry, however, looked up at her with innocent eyes, “Whatever do you mean, Auntie Tilda?”

The red-headed women extended her index finger towards him in warning. “Do not Auntie Tilda me. And you know exactly what I mean. You went towards that door at a snail’s pace.”

“I have no idea what you mean …” Harry grinned. “And it wasn’t at a snail’s pace.”

His aunt scoffed, “A turtle then, I give you that. But a really old one.”

Harry laughed out loudly, spitting a little bit of quiche right across the table. “A turtle I can live with …” he relented after he had caught his breath again. “Also: This was the only chance of me getting Louis bloody Tomlinson to open a door for me. I had to take it.”

Tilda took a bite of her quiche again, deep in thought. “But did you see his face? He looked at you as if you had grown three heads all of a sudden.”

“Maybe it was the big, purple bruise on my forehead?” Harry teased.

His aunt crooked her head, “Maybe, but I’m not sure. To be completely honest with you, I am absolutely confused by Louis. This is Louis Tomlinson, version three: First version smiley and polite, second the bully, third the scared young man we saw today. Honestly, I can’t wrap my mind around this.”

“Well, I only know version two and three, so …” Harry shrugged. He couldn’t get the image of Louis out of his mind either, though. Most of all how he had desperately tried to say something but nothing seemed to come out. And he seemed to care for his sisters. On his own. It just wasn’t what he had expected from football player Louis Tomlinson, to be completely honest.

“Maybe I’m a little prejudiced as well …” Harry remarked after his train of thought had hit a dead end.

Looking up at his aunt, he saw her smile. Then, she squeezed his hand carefully, “The biggest prejudice one can have is to believe that one isn’t prejudiced at all.”

Harry smiled back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter turned out to be quite long - mostly because I kind of involuntarily channeled English teacher Mr. Branagh. I can't say I'm sorry ;) Also: Enter Liam.   
> Enjoy guys.

On his first day back at school, Harry came closer to receiving a panic attack than he had in the five weeks he had to stay at home. Not because of the fact that he had to return with still visible injuries (the cut on his forehead still shone brightly and even though the itchy cast on his am was finally gone the leg brace remained), not because he had to potentially face Louis and the pals of him that remained but because of the fact that as soon as Niall and him had entered the main corridor, everyone went silent. They all gaped at Harry as if he was some kind of alien. Not that people hadn’t gaped at him before, but this was different.

Before, he had been the boy who was different:

Different because he had only just moved here, different because he had been at a school in London that he had to leave (and here the rumour mill had really started to go wild), different because he wore bright clothes, different because his hair was long. But that day Harry and Niall entered the main corridor together, it was the atmosphere that was different. It felt as if everyone held their breath and looked how he would adjust to it.

“That’s weird”, Harry whispered to Niall but he was sure that a lot of people had heard it as no one was freaking talking. His pulse quickened and he started to sweat. Even though his clothes sometimes suggested otherwise, he never liked to be in _that_ kind of focus.

His best friend leaned towards him but his eyes remained carefully on their surroundings, “You don’t say …”

All of a sudden, Louis emerged from the loo and promptly froze in the middle of the corridor. A plan formed in Harry’s mind. Walking past the other teenager, Harry almost shouted, “Hey Louis” who only opened and closed his mouth again a few times, turning with them as he walked by. Gasps were heard and once Harry and Niall had rounded the next corner, the whispers started. “Bloody weird, man. Also, what was that?” Niall asked and looked quizzically at Harry.

The curly-headed boy grinned, “I don’t know what exactly it was that they were expecting of me, but it surely wasn’t to greet Louis. So yeah, I thought it was the best thing to do.”

“No shit. You never disappoint Mr. Styles.”, Niall smirked.

“I do my best. Come on, we have biology together”, Harry said and while he and Niall sauntered towards the according room, the blonde started beaming, “Oooh yeah! Mr. Cooper said that today we are going to dissect frogs …”

Harry only made a face at that one.

Thankfully, Harry hadn’t fainted or anything similar during biology. The second class that day was English. Oh, he loved English. He had been looking forward to this class his entire, prolonged stay at home. He and Niall, who he also shared this class with, entered and sat down at a table near the windows. Chatting away until the students filled in, Harry suddenly did a double take. “Niall?”

“How the frog twitched though … What?!” the Irishman’s head shot up.

Harry waved his head in the vague direction of the door, “Since when is Louis in this class?”

Niall blushed, “Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you …” Harry raised his eyebrows in question. There was no way Niall had _forgotten_ it.

“He has to do extra classes too. And he had to take English because his grades weren’t that good anyway, so …” The blonde shrugged.

“So you thought’s you’d spare me the horror of realisation that Tomlinson is in my favourite class. I don’t know if that is really cute or complete bollocks, Niall”, Harry confessed. On the one hand it would have spoiled everything if Niall had told him. He would have hated to come back to school – well, maybe not hated exactly, but he had looked forward to this class during his entire stay at home. If he had known … Then again, being faced with Louis like this also wasn’t great.

“If the decision is up to me I go for cute, obviously.” Niall beamed and Harry chuckled. “Obviously.”

“Good morning!” the voice of their English teacher, Mr. Branagh, boomed inside the classroom. A smile appeared on Harry’s lips. Even though the degree of investment of Mr. Branagh in the books they were reading was, at times, a bit over the top, Harry adored him. The amount of knowledge pooled in that head was almost frightening. One time, he held a 50-minute speech about the life of Shakespeare without any notes. Harry had stared in awe. He just hoped that someday, he would know only half of what Mr. Branagh knew.

“What we are going to do today is the following: At first, you will receive your essays on Wilde’s _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. Please look carefully at my notes. Not because I think that I am a genius – which I am”, Harry snickered quietly, “but because they will be useful for your next assignment.”

Niall groaned. “Yes, Mr. Horan, there will be a next assignment. Oh, and I see Mr. Styles is back. Welcome. Dare I say that this class was missing your creative inputs terribly during the last five weeks? Most of all me …”

Harry blushed and mumbled a quick “Thank you, Sir.”

“As I was saying: Your next assignment will be about, believe it or not, literature.” Niall rolled his eyes and Harry slapped him on the arm teasingly.

“Literature”, Mr. Branagh continued as he sat down on the edge of his desk, “What is it?” As everyone kept staring at their teacher, Mr. Branagh started to roll his eyes, “Jesus, Mary and all the Saints.” He brought his flat hand down onto his desk and a few students, who were scrolling through their phones or starting to drift of, jumped. “What is literature to you? … Anyone?” Niall raised an unsteady hand.

“Yes, Mr. Horan?”

“Books …?” It was almost a question.

Mr. Branagh nodded, “Yes. Books. The obvious answer, but at least an answer. What else? … Oh come on. What about plays? Newspaper articles? Blogs? Song lyrics? Might whatever you are reading on your phone, Mr. Payne, be literature?”

The footballer’s head snapped up, “What?”

“What are you reading on your phone?” Mr. Branagh asked.

“Uh, nothing …” Liam answered.

Their English teacher rolled his eyes, “I strike you a deal, Mr. Payne: If you tell me what you were reading on your phone I will not confiscate it. So?”

Liam bit his lip, “Uhm … the, ah, the football scores, Sir.”

Mr. Branagh nodded, “The football scores. Which ones?”

“Liverpool against …” the teenager started but their teacher waved him off. “No, that’s not what I meant. Let me rephrase: Is it the solely score?”

The teenager frowned, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention he was suddenly getting from their teacher, “No …”

“That’s what I was thinking, considering the amount of time you have spent looking past your actual table.” A few people snickered, Harry included. “What has taken you so long?”

“I was reading an analysis of last night’s game …” Liam answered.

Mr. Branagh fixed him with his piercing gaze: “Why?”

“Why?” Liam parroted.

“Yes, why? It is a simple enough question, I think. Why? Why were you reading the analysis of last night’s game in the middle of my class that I have so carefully prepared while Liverpool was playing Edinburgh City?” A few students gaped, clearly not expecting their English teacher to know anything about football.

Liam blushed, “Because I wanted to know …”

“Why?” Mr. Branagh pressed on.

“Because”, Liam gulped, “Because it’s important to me I guess …”

Mr. Branagh snapped his fingers and pointed at Liam: “There we have it. Because it is important to you.” Harry smiled quietly. He had missed this.

“Literature is – or – _can be_ anything that is important to you. After all, who decides what literature is? The government? Indeed, it can ban things – has done so – but why do you think they did that?” Mr. Branagh continued.

“Because they’ve considered whatever they banned dangerous”, Heather supplied.

Mr. Branagh nodded, “Exactly. The government has decided that some books – that Mr. Horan has classified as literature – are not to be read by the public. Too vulgar, too obscene, too dangerous to read. Some of them neatly stocked in our libraries today. _Lady Chatterley’s Lover_ by D.H. Lawrence being one of them. The BBC only recently broadcast an adaption. Anyone seen it?”

Harry slowly raised his hand. Mr. Branagh nodded, “Mr. Styles, of course. What did you think of the movie?”

Harry blushed a bit, “It was nice …”

Their teacher looked intently at him. “Please don’t tell me that during those past five weeks you have been reduced to statements like ‘This is nice.’ Otherwise I will drive straight down to the hospital and give them a piece of my mind about medication doses.” Yes, Mr. Branagh was not known for his good bedside manner either. Harry blushed some more, “What did you think of it? Have you read the book?” Harry nodded. “Of course you have. So, how was the movie in comparison to the book?”

Harry bit his lip, “I liked the movie, just …”

“Just?” Mr. Branagh pressed on.

“It just wasn’t like the book. At least not how I’ve read it.”

“Why?”

Harry sighed, “They have made the movie more … romantic I guess. It wasn’t as, uhm, emancipating as the book. The movie was a classical romance. But in the book Connie, ah, Lady Chatterley had to fight. She wasn’t happy most of the time. Not even when she stared the affair with Mellors. He irritated her. In the beginning it was just … sex. Pages and pages of sex. And she didn’t even like Mellors a lot, nor the sex really. But over time, they kind of grew into their relationship … just to be thrown back all over again. And in the movie it was just …” Harry gesticulated wildly, “BAM! Sex, love, hurray. It was not what the book was like, to me.”

Mr. Branagh smiled at him, “Why not?”

Harry tried to explain: “In the book it … I don’t know. It was harder …”

“I bet it was”, Charles supplied helpfully and Harry blushed immediately.

Their teacher fixed the other teenager with a death glare, “One more comment like this, Mr. Hesketh and I’ll change your upcoming assignment into a 50 minute speech about The Vagina Monologues. Mr. Styles, you were saying?”

With a red face, Harry continued: “I meant that the book was more realistic to me. In reality, it is hardly like the movie suggested: You see someone, there is instant attraction, everything just clicks into place and the surroundings just quietly fade out. That’s what I liked better about the book.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. And I think you said something every important: The movie was not how _you had read_ the book. This is what your upcoming assignment will be about. Your interpretation of whatever I am going to assign you. Why do you think it is literature? Or maybe you think it isn’t? Despite being a book? Why is what you were forced to read important? What is the message? And how does it relate to you – and with that potentially to other people? After all, literature can be anything. Giving the Nobel Prize for Literature to a musician prove as much …”

“Who got the Nobel Prize for Literature?” Niall asked Harry.

“Bob Dylan …”

“Really?” Niall asked in amazement and Harry nodded. “Cool.”

Mr. Branagh continued, “I will pair you up and you have to hand in a paper by the end of the month. And I expect both parts of the team invest an equal amount of work. I don’t care how you tackle this, if one person writes the entire thing and the other one does the background checks or if both of you are invested equally in each step. This is up to you. Now, on to the teams. I will pair you not according to my own liking but due to the alphabet. This results in the following teams …” And their teacher rattled off names. When Niall was teamed up with Aidan, he exhaled. “Aidan’s cool …” Niall muttered just before a book was plopped onto his table together with his essay.

“Red Dragon?!” Niall exclaimed and even Harry thought that it was a bold choice. “It is part of the Hannibal Lecter collection, Mr. Horan, so I’m sure not even you will get bored”, Mr. Branagh said while he started giving out more books and more essays. Niall made a face at Harry who grinned and shrugged.

After about ten minutes Harry, who had been dozing a little while listening to Niall’s complaints about his book, heard his own name: “Mr. Styles and …” Harry’s eyebrows rose at the pause. After a few moments, their teacher continued, “and Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry felt as if all oxygen had been punched out of his body.

“WHAT?!” Niall exclaimed in complete shock.

“Your protective instincts are admirable, Mr. Horan, but rest assured, I am not oblivious to the situation at hand. Mr. Tomlinson”, their teacher walked up to the other teenager.

“Yeah?” the footballer’s response was barely audible.

While dropping an essay and a book in front of Louis, Mr. Branagh said, “I trust that during the assignment there won’t be _anything_ that is not up to scratch. Have I been clear?”

Louis nodded, eyes glued to the table, “Crystal.”

“Perfect”, the English teacher said and walked over to Harry. “Good job on the essay, Mr. Styles – both of them”, the man grinned while he dropped a book onto Harry’s table. While Niall groaned audibly, Harry turned the book around. _Girl Unmoored_. Harry had never heard of it. By the looks of it, it was a young adult novel. He was intrigued …

… and then he remembered his team partner. _Great, just great_. As Mr. Branagh said that they should exchange contact information if they needed, he saw Louis creeping over, insecurity written all over his body.

“At least he has the decency to get his ass over here and does not expect you to get up and wobble to him …” Niall spat.

Harry chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood – for Niall as much as for himself: “So you think I wobble … Thanks, man.”

Niall rolled his eyes, “If he does something, scream Harry.” And with that, he walked over to Aidan.

Harry frowned. And then, Louis stood in front of him. Harry’s hands started to sweat.

“Hi Harry”, Louis said so quietly that the teenager who remained seated almost couldn’t hear him.

“Hi”, Harry greeted back. He let his eyes wander over the teenager standing in front of him: his brown hair sticking out wildly, worn jeans, a too-wide black sweater and beaten chucks. And he started bouncing again, like the day they had visited him at home, Harry noticed.

“Uh”, Louis said suddenly, “Can I sit down?”

Harry felt like an idiot. “Of course!” he exclaimed and shoved Niall’s chair towards the other student. Louis smiled a little and finally took a seat.

“So uhm … we’re a team I guess”, Harry started as the other teenager didn’t supply anything of his own.

Louis nodded, “Yeah.” And then, after a little while the footballer waved his book in front of Harry, “Have you read this?”

The curly headed boy shook his head, “No. No I haven’t.” Harry pressed his thumbnail into the palm pf his hand in distress. This exchange was beyond awkward. Again.

Louis shrugged, “I just thought, you know, because you have read most of the stuff discussed in this class …”

Harry frowned, “How would you know?” As far as he knew, Louis had only been taking this class since The Incident.

A blush rose on the other teenager’s cheeks, “Uhm … Liam has told me.”

Right, they were on the football team together. Of course. “Oh, I see.” Harry, for the life of him, couldn’t understand why they would be talking about him before or after football practise.

“No, I haven’t read this one but … I don’t know, looks interesting. We’ll see I guess.” Harry tried a small smile and Louis bit his lip.

“Yeah, yeah. Fair warning though, I’m not great with books.”

Harry shrugged, “Why don’t we both start reading and then see who can do what in terms of the paper?”

Louis nodded, “Sounds good. Uhm … I … Listen, I need a bit of time ‘till I can get some reading done, alright? Not to bail out or anything, just …”

Harry smiled tentatively, “Just, you have football practise and stuff.”

“Yeah, and stuff …” Louis said bitterly and Harry wondered briefly if he was hinting at the amount of social work he had to do. Because if he meant that he would not get a grain of sympathy from Harry.

“You know what …” Harry said and tore a piece of paper from his notebook, “I’ll give you my number. Just call me when you have read a bit and we can meet up, alright?”

When Harry handed Louis the slip of paper, their fingers touched briefly. Harry shuddered involuntarily and Louis leaned back immediately. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll … I’ll call you Harry, thanks.” Harry grinned at him.

And then, Louis took a deep breath, “Listen Harry, I don’t know if they paired us up on purpose or anything but … I want to tell you that I’m sorry. Again. What I did …” he bit his lip again, “What I did was horrible and there is no excuse. But I … I won’t do anything like that anymore and … yeah, I just wanted you to know that.”

A bit taken aback, Harry nodded. “Thanks Louis that …” he swallowed and had to look away from those intense blue eyes, “… that means a lot.”

“Okay. So, I’ll call you, yeah?”

Harry briefly wondered into which parallel universe he had been transported to hear that particular sentence. “Yeah.”

As if Harry hadn’t been confused and creeped out enough as it was over the whole team-project-thingy with Louis, lunch break opened yet another chapter in that regard. As he was sitting with Niall at one of the empty tables, he saw Liam Payne walk over. Harry nudged Niall and waved his head over to the footballer, “I guess this will be for you.” Niall had told Harry the previous day that Liam was their newly appointed team captain – even though everyone knew Louis was the better player. Still, there was the whole _He beat Harry-thing_ (quote Niall) so it was probably not surprising that the choice had been Liam.

“Hi guys”, said team captain greeted them and stopped in front of their table. This was a first, Harry thought. One of the most popular guys in school approaching them, sitting at a table in a corner of the cafeteria like the outcasts they were.

“Hi Liam”, Niall said with way more confidence than Harry.

“Hey”, the curly-haired teenager muttered. Harry had never really interacted with Liam. They had English and PE together but Liam was way too popular to talk to Harry. Then again, Liam had never participated in the other footballer’s bullying which earned him a few point in Harry’s ranking.

Liam smiled, “Harry, can I talk to you for a second?”

Flabbergasted, Harry nodded “Uh, sure …”

Niall looked as confused as he did as the footballer sat down. “Listen Harry, I know the whole team-assignment in English is weird … and that you got to work with Louis is …well, _interesting_ …”

“Understatement …” Niall muttered.

Harry grinned, “Euphemism” he corrected to which Niall replied “Now-it-all!” with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Liam chuckled. “Well, I just wanted to tell you or … ask you, more like, that … uhm, you aren’t too hard on Louis.”

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

Liam sighed and settled more comfortably on their table. It looked as if they were going to be there for a while. “Listen: I don’t want to sugar coat what he did. It was a terrible thing – not only the … ah, the beating but also the bullying – and I have told him time and time again that he should stop.” Harry’s jaw dropped a little at that. The footballer continued, “But I want you to know that he hasn’t the easiest lot either.”

“And that justifies him beating Harry up or what?” Niall asked indignantly.

Liam blushed, “No! No, Jesus, no. That came out wrong. I just … He has a lot on his mind. And, no matter how it looks like in school, he … is struggling. Has been for a few years now. With a lot of things. And now … I guess what I want to tell you guys is this: With Louis, a lot of stuff is not what it looks like, okay? So … You don’t have to be best friends with him Harry, of course not, but … I just ask you not to judge him too harshly.” Niall snorted. “He would never tell you this himself, that’s why I’m here now, but you have no idea how much he is beating himself up over what he did. He doesn’t sleep anymore because he has constant nightmares, he has panic attacks …”

“Have you asked Harry how he’s sleeping?” Niall asked sarcastically. As much as Harry loved Niall for sticking up – to his goddamn team captain, for crying out loud – for him, he slapped him on the arm lightly. He did have a point though.

Liam rubbed his eyes, “I can only imagine …” Then, he looked at Harry intently: “I don’t know if I should even be telling you this Harry but just to get my point through that I am no stranger to homophobic bullying: I have two uncles. I mean, I have more than two uncles, but a brother of my Mum lives with his husband, way up in Scotland. I used to spend a lot of time with them as a kid. Still do, actually. And believe me, I have seen a lot. So when I say that I have no tolerance for homophobic bullshit like that then you can trust that I am telling the truth. That is why I have … reduced my contact with Louis some time ago, since he started to hang out with Charlie and the others. But deep down, he is not a bad person and maybe, maybe this project will be good for him. That’s all I’m saying.”

To Harry, it felt as if he took a breath for the first time since Liam had started his speech. “Uhm … yeah. Okay. I’ll … I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry said and was highly aware of how lame it sounded, but what on earth was he supposed to say?

“Great”, Liam beamed. “Also, I have talked to my uncle Chris recently and have told him about the … incident. Nothing specific though, don’t worry. And he offered that if you don’t get enough support as it is, he can give you a few pointers. You know, if you need any. Or of you need someone to talk to or something.” While Harry’s eyes steadily grew into saucers, Liam rolled his: “I know, he is a mother hen like that. And you don’t have to, Christ, you really don’t. Just – in case. You can tell me and I’ll give you his e-mail or number or whatever, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay”, Harry parroted, “Thanks Liam.”

The footballer gave two thumbs up and got up from their table. About to walk away, he turned again: “Oh, yes! Now that Niall is also on our team, Harry, maybe you would like to come to some of our trainings?”

“S-Sorry?” Harry asked dumbfounded.

Liam smiled, “It’s always good to train with an audience, you know? And maybe you’ll even come to one of our games or something. Anyways, bye guys. See you at training, Niall.”

And off he was. Harry looked in utter shock at Niall, who mirrored his facial expression. “What on earth was that?” Harry asked.

“No clue”, Niall said, confusion written all over his face, “I got something about poor Louis, be nice to him Harry, his gay, Scottish uncles and an invitation to our trainings.”

“Good thing I am not hallucinating then”, Harry said and sipped his water.

“Weird!” Niall said before he took a hearty bite of his sandwich. “Why is everyone so weird today?” the blonde asked, still chewing.

“Hell if I know …” Harry muttered. “Also: Gross Niall.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back :)  
> I just want to give a collective thanks to everyone who has stuck with my story and especially those who left Kudos or commented on it. I'd love to get back to each and everyone - and I will - but RL is currently just a tad stressful. Job and moving places and stuff like that ... Well, anyways, here is the new chapter. I hope you'll enjoy <3

When Harry’s phone rang the Saturday following Harry’s weird start in school, he didn’t think too much about it. Seeing that an unknown number was calling, though, had hot and cold shivers run down his spine. It really could only mean one thing.

“Hello?” Harry almost whispered into his phone after picking up.

“Hey Harry. This is, uhm, Louis”, Harry’s pulse quickened, “Listen, about our assignment: Would it be okay if I came by later today?” Harry took a deep breath, but Louis was quicker than him: “Or, you know, wherever you wanna meet up? I just thought you’d like it if you didn’t have to go anywhere because, yeah … But we can also meet, I don’t know, at the TeaRex or something …”

Almost touched by Louis’ clearly nervous rambling and the invitation to their town’s great tea shop/bakery, Harry answered: “Uh no, actually, it would be great if you came by. My aunt is here anyway …” Harry winced. Why on earth did he have to say that? Now he seemed like a complete idiot.

“Yeah, okay”, Louis agreed. “I could be there around … five? If that’s okay?”

“Sounds, ah, sounds good”, Harry replied. “See you at five then …”

“Okay. Bye.” And with that, Louis ended the call. Harry looked at the time on his phone. 11:25. A little more than five hours to prepare himself for the visit of his (former?) nemesis. 

This was something that Harry could not fully comprehend yet:  
How it had taken Louis only five weeks to completely change who he had been before - at least since Harry had known him. Gone was the guy who shoved Harry into lockers, who mocked Harry as a "teacher's pet" in English - not unlike Charles Hesketh had done the other day - made side remarks about his clothes, stuck a leg out in the caferteria so Harry fell straight to the floor and crackled over the way his lunch scattered all over the place, not to mention the way the footballer had always proclaimed on the corridor that the outcasts (meaning _Gay Harr_ _y_ and _Irish Niall_ ) had to stick together. Now, in this guy's place, was the insecure teenager Harry had just spoken to on the phone. A guy who, after a moment of Harry's hesitation, suggested to meet at a public place rather than under his own roof for the assignment. 

Confused, Harry shook his head: “Aunt Tilda?”

Not half a minute later, his aunt appeared in the doorway, wearing a wide, flowery dress in which she would have fitted at least three times, being about as tall and lean as Harry. “Yes, dear? You need anything?”

Harry smiled at her. “To mentally prepare yourself for the arrival of the homophobe. He will be here to work on our school project at five.” Of course, Harry had told his aunt about the team assignment with Louis, but asked her (okay, begged her) not to tell his Mum. She would have driven up to Lower Tadford and have given Mr. Branagh or Mr. Cowell a piece of her mind. Honestly, Harry didn’t know which option would be scarier.

“I see”, his aunt nodded, “Well then, we’ll prepare. Harry darling, do you think it’s too late for geese?”

The teenager snorted, “Probably.”

“Hm …” his aunt seemed deep in thought and Harry was about 80 per cent sure that one of these days, she would return with some birds. She was doubtlessly thinking about last-minute security measures.

“Maybe we should stop calling him the homophobe, what do you think?” Harry suggested to distract her from the doubtlessly disastrous plan that was forming in her head.

Tilda nodded, “If he proves worthy of the change, then yes. Oh! I know. I will wear the rainbow flag.”

“The what?” Harry asked, sure that he had misheard.

His aunt came into his room and leaned on his desk, “The rainbow flag. Well, that’s what your mother has always called it anyway. It’s a dress, willow. A rainbow-coloured dress, worthy of today’s occasion. What do you say?”

Harry looked up doubtfully at his aunt, “You sure?”

“Absolutely!” She seemed positively thrilled at the thought, “And then I will casually question him on his motives.”

“His motives?” Harry almost squeaked. That sounded as if Louis was courting him in some kind of harlequin novel.

“Yes, what prompted his change and such … Don’t worry, I’ll be subtle …”

Harry snorted, “Of course you will. I think I’d prefer the geese, honestly …” Tilda slapped him on the shoulder lightly and Harry chuckled.

“Oh. My. God.” Harry stared open mouthed at his aunt, wearing what could indeed only be described as a rainbow flag. It was – yet again – a massive cotton dress with rainbow stripes from shoulder all the way down to the floor. Harry thought that if anyone would look at it too long, they would be getting dizzy.

Aunt Tilda placed her right hand on her hip and crooked her head, “Harry darling, it is beneath you, of all people, to criticise fashion choices.”

The addressed teenager waved his index finger in front of his face, “No, no. My mint-green pants are NOTHING compared to this …” They had had this argument over the pants he had ordered online about a million times already.

His aunt looked absolutely distraught at him, “But love, they’re mint …”

“So …?”

“It does absolutely nothing for your skin tone …”

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Well, I like them anyways … And besides, if I look at your dress long enough, I’ll think I’m high …”

Aunt Tilda smirked, “How would you know about being high, young man?”

“Movies”, Harry countered and they grinned at each other. Rumour had it that his aunt had quite an amount of grass stacked away somewhere. Harry just hadn’t gotten to find out where.

The artificial crowing of a rooster startled them out of their staring match. “Oh, he’s here…” Harry’s aunt seemed positively thrilled at the new arrival while the teenager only rolled his eyes. “I’ll open the door …” he insisted while he got up, “It will be sufficiently shocking when he sees you in here.”

While Harry passed his aunt, she asked indignantly, “Whatever do you mean by that?”

Harry just grinned. He loved his banter with Aunt Tilda.

As he opened the door, he saw a confused looking Louis standing in front of their door. “Hey.”

“Uhm, hi. Was that …?”

Harry smiled sheepishly, “Our door bell sounds like a rooster, yes.”

“Ah.” Louis nodded, still looking suspicious. Harry couldn’t blame him.

“Come on in …” Harry stepped aside and let the other teenager in. He thought that he heard a quiet “Thanks” but he wasn’t entirely sure.

Harry stepped past Louis once again and went through into the living room, “I thought it would be best if we went up to work in my room. That okay?”

Louis nodded, “Sure, sure.”

Harry hoped that they could somehow make it upstairs without Louis being faced with _The Rainbow Flag_ but he knew it was useless. Once they passed the kitchen, Aunt Tilda swayed out.

“Hello Ms … uh, Selley”, Louis greeted her and, Harry had to give him credit for that, only let his guard slip for a second.

“Well, hello Louis. How are you?” The smile on her face was absolutely disgusting. Harry looked at his aunt pointedly.

Louis blushed, not knowing where to look, “Uh, fine. Yeah. Thanks, Ms Selley.”

“How are your sisters?” A pointed sip of what surely was some mint tea.

“Good, thanks.” Louis grinned awkwardly.

“That’s great to hear. Listen boys, you go on up and I’ll bring something to drink up in a sec …”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah, thanks Aunt Tilda. Come on Louis …”

Harry led the way, supporting his weight on the railing of the old stairs when he stepped on his still healing leg, and once inside his room, sat down at his desk. Looking how Louis creeped into his room almost had something comical. Almost. It would have been way more fun if the tension wasn’t that intense. “What?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows at the footballer who looked like he was facing eternal doom.

“Uh … nice … nice room”, Louis said after some time. “I thought it would be …” The other teenager trailed off, blushing.

“Gayer?” Harry supplied with raised eyebrows. Harry had to say, he was quite fond of his cottage-style room. It was mainly white with a few specks of warm wood. Of course, Harry had put in one or the other colourful accent himself – just how he liked it.

The other teenager blushed furiously. “That’s not what I …” He sighed.

“Don’t worry, I’ve taken the naked guy and the Village People down so you won’t be too uncomfortable”. Harry looked deadpan at Louis, who stood In the middle of Harry’s room, a complete loss. Harry couldn’t help himself, he started chuckling and thankfully, Louis released a long breath and smiled at Harry too.

“Come on, sit down …” Harry said and pushed the chair his aunt had brought in towards Louis. “Also, who needs the Village People when you’ve got a wandering rainbow flag in the house, right?”

Sitting down, Louis chuckled, “Yeah, about that: What is that?”

Harry sighed, “Damned if I know. Saw it the first time today and it’s terrifying.”

Louis chuckled and Harry smiled. Like this, Louis was almost … nice. Except, of course, they were strategically placed in a team to overcome their differences – no matter how much Mr. Branagh relied on the alphabet doing the job for him.

“So, the book”, Harry started and Louis began nodding along. “Yeah, the book. Listen, I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Harry nodded. Of course. “How far _have_ you gotten?”

“Uhm, chapter six …” Louis looked down on where he had placed the book next to his ripped notebook.

“Oh”, Harry exclaimed surprised, “That’s … not too bad, actually.”

Louis looked at him pointedly, “Us footballers, we are capable of reading, you know. Most of us, anyway …”

Harry bit his lip, “Touché.”

The two boys smiled at each other insecurely. Then, Louis sighed, “I wanted to read more but … I had so much to do …”

“Like, with the social work?” Harry asked and Louis shook his head, but didn’t supply anything on his own. “Okay, it doesn’t matter anyway. Sorry I asked … So, uhm: _Girl Unmoored_. What did you think of this so far?” Harry felt like a teacher; it was awkward.

“I … I like it.”

Harry waited but again, nothing in terms of elaboration came. Harry sighed: “Okay, I’ll start. I like Apron. Although we don’t know too much about her, she is cool. I love her fashion choices. Frankly, I am thinking about wearing a skirt with frogs to school one of these days myself. Just to, you know, see the reaction.”

At first, Louis looked at Harry as if he had grown a second head, but after a few seconds, he started chuckling. Harry exhaled himself and hoped that some of the tension was gone. “Yeah, I like Apron too.” Harry smiled, “You’re just … Better with words, I guess. I can’t …” Louis exhaled, “Sometimes, I don’t know how to explain things properly. I … It feels like I want to say something but … I just … can’t.” Harry tried his best not to stare, but he was afraid that he did not succeed.

Louis continued, “So I’m sorry, but I think I won’t be too much help with the project.”

Harry thought that he should be upset about this; that he had to do all the work himself, but then again, Louis looked so sincere and truly apologetic that he just couldn’t. “Can I ask you something, Louis?” The other teenager just nodded. “Do you want to finish this assignment with me?” Another nod. “Okay, then we’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.”

For the first time, Harry thought that he saw true emotion on Louis’ face: a mixture of relief and disbelieve. “Now, maybe we can read one or the other chapter together, what do you think?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Harry smiled.

By the time Aunt Tilda – still dressed in _The Rainbow Flag_ – knocked with two glasses of lemonade, they had already gotten some reading done. Sure, Harry was a bit ahead of Louis, chapter-wise, but it really didn’t matter. They had even come to exchange casual comments of what they were reading. When Louis had said something that he thought was funny, Harry chuckled along, nodding or supplying something of his own. One time, he had said “Just you wait …” Louis had looked quizzically at him, before doing a facepalm, “Of course, you’re farther ahead than me.” Harry had only chuckled and raised his eyebrow cockily.

“Hello boys”, Harry’s aunt announced herself while opening the door with her elbow, “Everything okay?”

Louis nodded while Harry only rolled his eyes, “We would be much better if you changed. For crying out loud, Aunt Tilda, this thing is hideous. I am getting dizzy looking at it.”

The older woman had placed the tray which held also some of her self-made cookies, Harry noticed, down on the desk. “Harry love, I do not comment on your fashion choices, you do not comment on mine, that’s the deal.”

“And yet we had about a thousand arguments about my mint-green pants”, Harry replied. It looked as if his aunt wanted to counter something, but then she focused her gaze on Louis. _Not good_ , Harry thought.

“Louis.”

“Yes?” he asked insecurely. Harry felt his pain.

Aunt Tilda exhaled, “Can I be frank?”

“Oh God, here we go …” Harry muttered and Louis cast him a worrying look. Rightfully so, in Harry’s opinion.

Aunt Tilda nodded as if to strengthen herself for what she was about to say. Harry himself got slightly nervous and he could only imagine how Louis felt. “I must say that I have been very surprised that you were involved in an … incident like the one with Harry.”

“Aunt Tilda …” Harry whined. And they had just started to get along without it being too awkward around each other.

Louis looked at Harry and cast him a sad smile, “It’s okay … Really.”

Harry’s aunt continued as if nobody had said anything. Typical. “I was astounded to learn that you were part of all that. That’s not like you at all Louis …”

“I know.”

That was all he said. _I know_.

Louis looked down at his hands that were frantically kneading each other, clearly uncomfortable.

“I knew you since you were born, young man. But recently, I feel that you have changed. And not to the better, I am afraid to say …”

“Aunt Tilda, please …” Harry his has face in his hands. This was beyond embarrassing. Sure, he had to say that since Niall and his aunt had told him that once Louis had been nice, he was curious. But did his aunt have to rub it into the other teenager’s face like that?

Louis however, nodded again. “Yeah, you could say I have chosen the wrong company … And now, everybody knows it.”

“But why those … stupid bullies? That’s not like you, Louis …” His aunt looked highly concerned. Maybe, Harry thought, maybe she had asked herself what had happened to the laughing and polite boy – and now was her chance. But still, she wasn’t his parent. Technically, it was quite intrusive to ask those questions, at least in Harry’s books.

Louis just nodded. And nodded and nodded. And all of a sudden, it hit Harry in the face: He was fighting tears. Louis bloody Tomlinson sat in his room and tried his best not to cry. Harry motioned Tilda to stop but nothing seemed to work. She just blabbered on how polite and funny Louis had been and asked what on earth had happened to that boy. Harry tried everything: waving, motioning to her as if he cut his throat, the time-out motion, nothing helped. Only when he cleared his throat his aunt seemed to realise that something else was going on. Harry loved his aunt, but if she got motivated, she didn’t let anything get in her way. Not even a crying ex-bully.

The woman stopped and looked exasperated at Harry, who looked pointedly over at the other teenager. Only then Tilda seemed to realise what was going on and she cringed. “Alright boys, carry on. If you … ah, need anything, call willow, alright.”

Harry only gave her a thumbs up and a forced grin. Once she had left the room, Harry took a deep breath. “Louis?”

More nodding. “Listen, I’m sorry. Sometimes, my aunt just doesn’t know when to stop … Not really her strength, sensitivity. Well, not always …” The other teenager stayed completely silent. Yet again, Harry was at a complete loss as what to do and felt completely helpless.

“Can I get you anything?” No harm in asking, right?

Finally, Louis took a deep breath, “N-No … No thanks. I …” He looked up, searching for his copy of the book on the table and avoiding to look at Harry at all cost, “I have to get going anyway …” And with that he was out of the room so quickly that Harry couldn’t even protest. _Footballer_ , Harry thought.

The curly-headed teenager sat at the desk in his room, paralysed. What on earth had just happened? Did Louis Tomlinson really just have a breakdown in his room? He needed to call Niall. Grabbing his phone, his eyes landed on something that did definitely not belong in his room: Louis’ battered and ripped notebook. “Bollocks.”


	6. Chapter 6

“And he cried?” Niall asked in disbelieve. “Really _cried_?”

Harry sighed, leaning back against his pillows as he was lounging about on his bed. “I mean, it wasn’t a full on, ugly cry with sobs and everything but yeah … Louis Tomlinson sat in my room and cried.” Harry sighed, “Because my aunt made him.”

“Wow.” Niall appeared to be as stunned as he was.

“Yeah.” Harry ruffled his hair, “And the worst part is that I have to give him his notebook back.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. When should I do this? Like, drive over now? Or should I wait until Monday? When on Monday? In English? I don’t know if that’s such a good idea …” Harry had to admit that he was panicking just slightly about the black notebook still lying untouched on his desk. Right where Louis had placed it. Harry averted his eyes.

“Hmm … We have training on Monday, though”, Niall said. “Maybe you could give it to him then.”

Harry nodded, “Not bad, Horan. Until when?”

“Dunno. Six maybe?”

“Six would actually work. I have therapy at four, but I could come back”, Harry mused.

Niall started chuckling. “What?” Harry asked.

“Just …” More laughter, “Did you ever think, maybe three months ago, that you would come back to school to watch a football training and wait for Louis Tomlinson so you can give him his notebook back?”

Harry snorted, “Nope, I certainly did not. Kinda surreal …”

“I’ll say …” Niall sighed, “Listen Harry, I gotta go. Sorry mate. But uh … I promised to call some of my pals back in Ireland …”

Harry smirked, “Yeah, yeah. You’re calling Tash …”

“Amongst other people …” Niall said and Harry was sure that his best friend blushed. He had met this girl, Natasha, during his last visit and apparently, they hit it off despite the distance. Harry had to confess that he was a bit envious – most of all because he didn’t have anyone like that to call.

“See you Monday, Niall.”

“See ya, mate!”

Harry hung up. He exhaled and got up, grabbing _Girl Unmoored_ from where he had put it about an hour ago. Passing his desk he looked yet again at the notebook. Running his fingers softly along the battered edge, Harry briefly wondered if he should open it. After only a moment’s hesitation, he resolutely pulled his fingers back. No, he would not do that. This was the most terrible invasion of privacy he could possibly commit. Most of all because Louis was … clearly not well. Harry shuddered at the thought if Louis would read his own scrapbook. No, he would not do this. Sticking the notebook into his backpack, he promised himself that he would get the blasted thing back to Louis on Monday – even if it meant going back to school after his hour of counselling.

And Harry did go back – after a very straining session of talking to his therapist.

He liked Ms. Holly, he really did, but she just did not comprehend what it meant to be an outsider in high school. Talk about your problems … Yeah, if only anyone would listen. (Okay, that was not fair, his aunt listened, Niall listened and, surprisingly, even Liam seemed to support queer people, but that was about it. At least in his experience.) Maybe some things had changed: Headmaster Cowell had enforced the strict no-bullying-whatsoever rule, but in his day to day-routine, it really didn’t change too much. People still looked weirdly at him – maybe now a little bit different than before, he did get four footballers expelled after all which had caused them to move; ironic, if you thought about it – and that was what dampened his days.

And there was the entire Louis-issue, of course. It was said issue that had Harry sit down at the bleachers, staring dumbly at the football field. After about fifteen minutes, he vowed to himself that Niall had to explain football to him. Sure, he knew about the ultimate goal: Beat the other team by shooting more goals than they shot. But everything else was absolutely confusing for Harry. So he just sat there and stared.

At some point, Niall must have seen him, as he waved joyfully at Harry.

Then, whipping his head around, Liam waved.

And then, Louis – who had been standing next to Liam during what seemed like a discussion of tactics, but what did Harry know? – turned around as well and just stared. He and Liam started whispering. Then Niall said something, which had Louis snap his head and look at Harry yet again – which was when Coach Corden ended their little exchange. Harry sat too far away to hear, but he caught something about “Concentrate” and “head in the game” and “unbelievable”, all accompanied by quite expressive gestures. Niall and Liam only rolled their eyes at each other which had Harry smirk. Maybe coming to the trainings would prove to be quite entertaining after all …

After Coach Corden called it a day, Niall jogged over with a blinding grin: “Hazza, you made it. Come into my sweaty arms!”

Harry looked at the blonde with a wrinkled nose, “I’d rather not, thanks Niall.”

Niall chuckled, pressed as kiss to the side of Harry’s head and walked him over to the changing rooms with an arm slung around his shoulder.

“Niall, you are not seriously walking me over to the showers, are you?” Harry asked in doubt.

Niall shrugged, “No one on the team would say anything. They know Cowell will expel them too. And besides, I think that a little more tolerance would do em good …”

“Uh … I think I’ll pass Niall …” Harry said, feeling uneasy. They had reached the changing rooms. Niall turned around and smirked at Harry: “Can’t handle my statuesque physique, can you Styles?”

The addressed teenager rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right. Nothing I haven’t seen before, _Horan_.”

Niall winked at Harry and disappeared into the changing rooms. Harry stood there, dumbfounded. What on earth should he do now? Wait for Louis? In front of the bloody showers? That would go down well …

“Harry Styles!”

At Coach Corden’s voice, Harry whipped around in surprise which caused him to hiss at the pain shooting through his knee. “Yes?” he almost squeaked.

With a determined expression, Mr. Corden walked up to him, looking him straight in the eye: “I appreciate the … newfound interest you are showing in regard of football …”

“Thanks …?” Harry said and cringed a little bit as Mr. Corden laid his hand on the teenager’s shoulder in what Harry supposed should have been a calming or supportive manner. In reality, he was terrified … and weirded out, to be completely honest.

Blindingly oblivious to his discomfort, Mr. Corden continued with what Harry labelled as his explanatory voice: “But I cannot have you distract my players, Harold.”

“My name is …”

“Harold. Seriously.” Harry clipped his lips shut, “They were focusing on you today … and I cannot have that. They need to focus on …” he made a grand gesture with his hands and Harry supposed he should be filling in the blank … “The ball …?”

“The game, Harold! The game.” Harry flinched at the sudden raise of voice. “The next game will be my debut …” Mr. Corden continued.

Harry scrunched his nose, “Pretty sure that’s theatre, Mr. Corden …”

“My _debut_ ”, the teacher emphasised, “on the big lawn. So I cannot have you as a liability there, Harold.”

“A liability?” Harry was beyond confused now.

Mr. Corden brought a hand to his chest, nodding in sincerity: “Yes, a liability.”

“Why?”

“I cannot have your … perfect looks disrupt the team spirit.” Harry got more and more confused, “They can only focus on one thing, simple minded as they are, and your … youthful features do not help. They hinder, Harold.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “S-Sorry?”

“They hinder …” That’s all Mr. Corden said before he turned and went into the changing rooms himself. Harry looked flabbergasted over to where Liam and Louis were standing, looking equally shocked. They just stared at each other, complete loss for words.

Liam, however, was the first to recover: “Well then, I am taking my simple mind to the shower then – not looking at you Harry, because I might faint and ruin Mr. Corden’s _debut_. See you guys later.”

And now, he and Louis were alone. The footballer looked like a deer in the headlights. Again.

Harry had yet again the feeling, he needed to defuse the tension. “How on earth do you guys deal with … _that_?” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of the showers.

Louis chuckled, “We’re not.”

Harry smiled as well. Then, he remembered why he was here in the first place. “Listen Louis, I have to say that I am sorry about … Saturday. Really. Aunt Tilda is sorry too. She really has gotten too far this time …”

Louis looked down at his trainers, “It’s okay …”

“No, it’s not …” Harry said resolutely. “You should not have to explain yourself – to my aunt or to me. That was completely uncalled for and I apologise.” Louis looked up at Harry from under his sweaty bangs and smiled a bit: “Thanks.”

Harry mirrored the smile, “You’re welcome. Oh, and I brought you this …” he said, reaching for his backpack and handing over the black notebook. “I’m afraid you forgot it at mine so …”

Louis looked at the notebook in shock; maybe he hadn’t even noticed yet that it had been missing. “Shit.”

“What?” Harry said, confused.

Louis grabbed the notebook as if his life depended on it, “Did you read it?”

“No.” Harry said. Louis still looked doubtful at him so Harry shrugged, “Okay, I admit, I thought about reading it. Most of all after your … thing, on Saturday. But I didn’t. I swear.”

The footballer nodded, still not convinced. Harry grinned, “Why, what’s in there anyway?”

“Just …” Louis clutched the book close to his chest, “… stuff.”

Harry frowned, “Stuff, okay I see. Yeah.” Harry sat down at a makeshift bench in front of the showers as his leg was getting tired. “Football manoeuvres?”

Louis chuckled, “They’re called tactics, Harry.”

“Hey, this is my first training, gimme a break.” Now Louis chuckled and Harry smiled up at the other teenager, “Football scores, then?” As no answer came, Harry just continued, “Oh no, I know: Lists of conquests? I mean, romantic ones. Am I right?”

Now Louis chuckled again and walked over to sit next to Harry. “Okay, okay. Stop it. Lists yeah, but more of the shopping kind. Like groceries and … stuff.”

“O-kay”, Harry drew out and suddenly remembered that his aunt had told him that she supposed Louis was doing a lot around the house. “So you help your Dad with the housework?”

“Help, yeah …” Louis added sarcastically and Harry got the feeling that somehow, Louis did the majority of chores at home. Still, Harry had troubles imagining him with an iron.

Harry cleared his throat, “So you have to do a lot since … uh, since your Mum died?”

Louis started his nodding again, biting his lips. “I’m sorry”, Harry said and felt like an idiot. But what are you supposed to say if your former nemesis starts fighting tears next to you on a bench in front of the football showers? Harry made yet another mental note at how surreal this was.

The other teenager took a deep breath, “Thanks. It’s … It has been pretty hard for a while and … then …” Louis’ voice broke.

Harry sighed, “I’ve heard about your sister. And I am so very sorry. I can’t … I can’t even imagine what that must feel like …”

Louis looked up at him, “Well, shit … That’s what it feels like.”

“Yeah …” Harry said and both teenagers exchanged an awkward smile.

They stayed silent for a bit before it was Louis, to Harry’s surprise, who started talking again: “It was then that … You know, I started hanging out with … uh, Charlie and the other guys.”

“Oh, I see …” Harry said quietly, not believing that the other student opened up to him like that.

Louis continued, “It’s because … I don’t know, I mean, they knew my Mum, obviously, you know how small the town is.” Harry snorted and nodded, “But they didn’t _know_ her, I guess. So it was easier than with … the other guys. Like Liam. At home, it was bad and so I just … liked _not_ talking about it.”

Harry chuckled sadly, “Yeah, that change must have been nice …”

“Yeah … That’s what my counsellor says anyway, so …” Louis shrugged.

The other teenager’s head whipped around, “So you have to see a counsellor too?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, part of my …” he waved his hand, “rehabilitation process.”

Harry nodded, “How’s yours?” Louis only frowned at Harry, so he continued, “I just had a session today – with my counsellor – and it was horrible. They just don’t get high school, do they?”

“No”, Louis chuckled, apparently glad that there was a slight change of subject, “No, they really don’t.”

Harry briefly wondered if they were seeing the same woman, the town was small after all, but decided against asking. It would most likely violate a law or confidentiality issue or something. “I mean”, Harry said, waving his hands, “You would think that they have been to high school as well at some point, right?”

Louis laughed out loudly at that, “Yeah. Yeah. Weird, innit?”

“I’ll say”, Harry said and shook his head.

That was the exact moment Niall came out of the changing rooms again. “Oh, hey guys. All good?”

Harry looked pointedly at Louis and then up to Niall, “Splendid. Say, can you give me lift home?” Harry hated it, but with his leg still in a brace, he wasn’t allowed to drive.

“Oh shit, sorry man, but Mum is picking me up today. We’re supposed to drive over to her friends’ this evening for dinner.” Niall cringed and Harry smiled. “No problem, I’ll just call my aunt.”

Niall bit his lip, “Sorry Haz.”

Harry waved at him dismissively. “No worries. No go, before your Mum skins you alive.”

Niall waved at them and jogged towards the parking lot. The curly-headed teenager was looking through his backpack for his phone, when Louis piped up, “If you want, Harry, I can uhm … drive you.”

Harry’s eyes grew as big as plates. Louis driving him?

Of course, the other boy caught on Harry’s hesitancy immediately and blushed, “Or not. Sorry, it was a stupid idea anyway …”

“No uhm …” Harry ran a hand through his hair, “No that would actually be great Louis, thanks.”

It was almost comical how the other teenager’s face lit up. “Really?”

Harry chuckled, “Yeah.”

“Okay cool. I’ll just grab a shower and …” He motioned towards the changing rooms. “Be right back …” Harry only gave him the thumbs up. Once the football player was inside, Harry ran his hands over his face. Had this been a wise decision? Probably not. But then again, Harry hated if other people felt uncomfortable, so he had just agreed. And how Louis face had lit up … at the prospect of driving Harry home. It was weird. Well, Harry supposed he would find out if Louis really had changed on that ride to his aunt’s house …

“Uhm, Louis?”

“Yeah”, Louis said from the driver’s side of his old Honda.

Harry blushed, “I hate to ask this, but uhm … Could you please move the seat back for me?” It was mortifying. Beyond mortifying, to be honest. Not only did Harry have to rely on Louis to get him home, but he also needed the other teenager to move the seat for him. With his leg brace, Harry could neither bend down nor sit how he usually did.

Louis actually slapped his forehead. “Of course, I’m so stupid!” He jogged around the car, opening the door and tried to get the seat as far back as possible. “I’m sorry Harry.”

“It’s fine, _I’m_ sorry for being such a nuisance … Thanks Louis”, Harry said once the footballer stepped back. Clumsily, Harry got in and almost gasped as he felt Louis steadying him while doing so. These days, it really felt like he was being transported into an alternate universe.

Louis closed the door carefully once Harry got in and jogged back to the driver’s side. “Ready?” Louis asked and once Harry nodded and smiled, he drove off.

“So, you’ve gotten any farther with the book?” Harry asked once they had driven a while in silence.

Louis shrugged, “A bit, yeah. But it’s not so easy when you have three siblings to look after and social work going on. But don’t worry, I’ll finish … Just, it’s not always easy for me to read.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I can imagine …” To be honest to himself, he didn’t know how Louis did it; all the house hold chores he apparently had to do, school, football and, now, the social work. The latter one however, Harry thought, he actually deserved. “What do you have to do?”

“Huh?” Louis looked over at Harry once he had taken a right turn.

“At social work, what do you have to do?” Harry asked. “Honestly, I’ve been wondering about that for a while. Is it hard?”

Louis shrugged, “Not really. I help around the hospital for a bit, I deliver food to a couple of elderly people and sometimes, they get me to pick up trash or something. Not too bad …”

“Hm”, Harry replied to that and, again, wondered how Louis managed to make this all work yet again.

As if he had read Harry’s mind, the other teenager continued, “When I get to pick up the trash or sometimes even when I do deliveries I can take Dais and Pheebs, so it’s cool.”

Harry shook his head, “Honestly Louis, I cannot imagine how you’re doing all of this. I mean, looking after your siblings like that … I couldn’t do it, I’m sure.” Harry replied honestly. There really was more to Louis than he had thought there would be.

The footballer shrugged, “Well, if you’ve got no choice …”

After another left turn, the car came to a halt and Harry realised that they had arrived at Ant Tilda’s house. Harry bit his lip. “Thanks Louis, for, you know, taking me home.”

The other teenager smiled, “The least I can do. It’s me who is responsible for that”, he waved his hand towards Harry’s leg, “… after all. Well, at least in part.”

Harry swallowed. Should he ask what he had been dying to know all along? He could ruin the entire fragile bond between them. On the other hand, he felt like he had a right to know. “Louis?”

“Yeah?” The other boy looked over and Harry yet again registered how very blue his eyes were.

“Can I ask you something?” The teenager nodded. “But you … uh …” Harry trailed off.

Louis grinned, “I what?”

Harry bit his lip. “You have to promise me not to get mad. Because I really don’t mean to be insulting or anything, I just … want to know, I guess.”

Louis gulped but kept looking at Harry, “I promise.”

“Okay.” Harry took a deep breath. “That, uh, that night …” Louis nodded, “Why did you call the ambulance?”

“What?”

“Why did you call the ambulance?” Harry fixed a clearly confused Louis, “Don’t get me wrong, I am so glad that you did. But … why? When you hated my guts?”

While Harry, in lieu of his last sentence, wondered what had changed that Louis got from beating him up to offering to drive him home, Louis rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “I …” He cleared his throat, “I have never hated you, Harry. No matter what you might think, but I have never hated you …”

The curly-headed boy frowned, “But you … You bullied me all the time, Louis …”

A deep sigh followed, “Yeah, I know.” Blue eyes locked with Harry’s green ones, “And I hated myself every day for it. I’m sure you don’t believe me – why would you? – but every time I … shoved you into a locker or called you names I hated that I did it.”

Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair that got in his face. “But why did you do it then? I never did anything to you …”

“I – I know”, Louis said and nodded, looking down at the steering wheel, “Charlie and Lee started it and I just … Went along. To … To belong.”

“I see.” Harry didn’t know what else to say to that.

But Louis shook his head, “No, you don’t. You really don’t.”

Harry fixed Louis with a stern look: “Then explain.”

Louis started his nodding again. He nodded and nodded as if he had to assure himself to follow through with whatever he was about the tell Harry. And then, he took a deep breath: “Okay. Okay. So … I told you how, after my … my Mum died, I started to hang out with Charlie and the others, right?” Harry nodded, “Right. And one day, they started to make fun of you. Because …” Louis trailed off and Harry raised his eyebrow in a silent challenge. “Because I look different to the football jocks and just because I like to wear colour everybody assumes that I am gay. Yes, I am aware.”

Louis looked as if somebody had emptied a bucket of cold water over his head, “You are not?”

Inwardly, Harry grinned. Throw Louis off his balance – check. “That’s not the point right now. You were saying?”

“Uhm right …” Louis stammered, “So yeah, they liked to call you names and at some point, they asked me to do it. And … I know this sounds stupid right now, but all I am good at is football. And if I would’ve blown it with Charlie, they’d made my life a living hell.”

Harry nodded, “So you’d rather made mine one …”

“I …” Louis was frantically searching for words, but finally settled on “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Now it was Harry’s time to nod. “Okay. But that didn’t answer my question: Why did you call the ambulance that day?”

Louis gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I … I saw them beating you up and … it was horrible. I … I felt so helpless, I couldn’t do anything … So I … I waited until I was out of Charlie’s car and called the ambulance immediately.”

“You could have tried to stop them, or not join in or whatever …” Harry added sarcastically.

“But I didn’t”, Louis said, looking over at Harry with a pleading look in his eyes. “I know you’re not going to believe me but … I didn’t … hit you or … kick you or anything. I was … I was paralysed …” Louis whispered that last part. “I … You just lay there, not making any sound, no matter how hard they kicked you and … I … I thought you were dead, Harry …”

The curly-headed teenager saw tears spill from Louis’ eyes that the other boy wiped away furiously. “It was awful, the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. And … there was so much blood. But I just … I couldn’t move …” Now Louis started sobbing again and Harry almost felt bad. Almost.

“Funny, I thought that I had made the most pitiful sounds back then. Guess not …” Harry supplied and Louis’ eyes were immediately on him again. “You were dead silent, Harry. I kept thinking: How does he not scream out in pain? How … How is he so strong?”

While Louis was shaking with silent sobs again, Harry had to process what the other teenager had just said. Louis thought that he was strong? Well, that was definitely news …

“I – I t-tried to get you away from them, but …” Louis started but didn’t continue.

Harry frowned, “When?”

Louis wiped over his eyes with the back of his hand, “Be-Before when … When I said that I would … would deal with you saying shit to us. I … I don’t know, I would’ve taken you around the corner and … maybe shoved you or something, but … what they have done …” While Louis started to sob yet again, Harry could only stare at him dumbfounded. He remembered that. He remembered Louis telling the others that he would take care of him. Never, not in a million years, had he thought that that had been an attempt to protect him. The curly-headed teenager was stunned.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry …” Louis whispered. And Harry believed him.

Contemplating his next move carefully, he slowly reached a hand out to Louis and carefully touched it to the other teenager’s back. As no protest came – only more sobs – Harry started running his hands up and down Louis back. “I know”, he said. “It’s okay Louis, I know.”

Harry had absolutely no idea how long they had been sitting in Louis’ car like this. It could have been two minutes or twenty, he lost track of time completely there. But suddenly, Louis sat up straighter again and wiped his eye furiously. “Well shit …” he said and chuckled awkwardly.

“Yeah, well shit”, Harry said and both teenagers started laughing.

Louis sniffed, “I think I should get going, the twins …”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Harry felt stupid for keeping Louis that long.

The footballer smiled at Harry insecurely, “No problem. Wait, I’ll help you …” And a second later he was at Harry’s door, opening it for him and offering his hand to help Harry get out of the car. “What a gentleman …” Harry smirked and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked and the other boy nodded, “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other. “Thanks again for taking me home, Louis.”

“Any time”, the other teenager said and slammed the door of his car shut.

“See you at school, Styles”, he said as he walked around to the driver’s side of the car again.

Harry waved awkwardly at him “Yeah, bye.”

As Louis had driven off, Harry ventured towards the house, shaking his head. Bowie, one of Aunt Tilda’s goats, was still out and ran towards the curly-headed boy. Absentmindedly, Harry scratched his head and contemplated what just happened. It had been surreal, how beaten up Louis had been over the whole thing while Harry had been under the impression that the entire time, the footballer had hated him.

Once inside the house, he heard his aunt holler: “Harry darling, was that Louis who dropped you off?”

“Yeah”, Harry shouted and thought he heard a quiet “Interesting” from upstairs.

“Understatement”, Harry muttered before he got himself some tea from the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

It was Saturday yet again and that meant that Louis would soon be sitting in Harry’s room to talk about _Girl Unmoored_. The curly-headed teenager had been thrilled the whole day – and not only because his aunt had promised to behave and not wear the rainbow flag. Harry adored the book. It was so funny and full of hope while tackling really heavy topics; not to mention Apron. The girl in the book had developed to become Harry’s personal heroine. So it was no surprise that Harry, sitting on his bed, reading with a notebook by his side, did not notice Louis come in.

Only when he heard a snort he looked up, startled.

“Teacher’s pet”, Louis grinned and Harry mirrored the smile. “Hi Harry.”

“Louis, hey”, Harry greeted the other boy, “I didn’t hear you.”

Louis nodded and walked closer, “Yeah, I got that. Your aunt let me in after I got attacked by a goat.”

Harry’s eyebrows went up, “What? Are you okay?”

The other by chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. ‘m fine. It was just a little … intense. Bloody thing practically ran me over.”

“Iggy then …”

“What?” Louis frowned and Harry blushed a little.

“It was Iggy then …” he explained, “Iggy Pop. He always gets really excited about new people. Bit of a nuisance, really …”

Louis looked at Harry quizzically. “Iggy Pop?”

The curly-headed teenager blushed even more, “Yeah like …”

“Like the punk rocker, I know.” Louis smiled.

“Aunt Tilda usually names all of her animals like somebody famous. Iggy is Iggy because he and one of the other goats, _Bowie_ ” Harry looked at Louis meaningfully while the other grinned, “always stick together and no one knows what they’re up to. So yeah, Iggy.”

Louis started laughing and Harry smiled at him. He liked when the other teenager laughed. “A history in rock and pop music then, I like that.” Louis eyes gleamed and Harry just had to look away. Those crystal blue orbs were too much for him. And the realisation that they were had hit Harry in the past week.

Since Harry had come to the football training on Monday, Liam and Niall had apparently declared it their utmost priority to strengthen the connection between Louis and him. This meant that on Wednesday, Liam had waved at them during their lunch break and, after an invitation from Niall, Liam and Louis had sat down. It had become kind of a routine after that and so the four of them – Harry noted that Liam seemed to stick around Louis more than before – usually shared their lunch. Talking about alternate universe … On Friday, when Niall had ranted about Mr. Corden and his – to put it mildly – unusual methods of coaching, Louis had started to laugh and when he had looked up, had tears in his blue eyes which made them shine like two crystals. It had been a punch to Harry’s gut that he did not like to think about just yet.

After a few moments of his inner reflection, Harry abruptly looked up. “Sit down Louis!” he exclaimed, which startled the other boy. Harry blushed yet again and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, not the perfect host.”

Louis waved at him dismissively, “You’re fine. You wanna ... uh, stay over there or … sit at the table.”

Harry was suddenly highly aware of his position on the bed. “Uhm actually …” the teenager bit his lip insecurely, “I wouldn’t mind staying over here. I’m sorry but I had physio therapy yesterday and my leg is killing me … You can sit at the table though, I don’t mind”, he quickly added.

Louis blushed a bit himself but walked over to the bed, “Nah, it’s fine …” And with that, he sat down. Harry almost couldn’t believe his eyes. As Louis was rummaging through his battered backpack to get _Girl Unmoored_ and his black notebook out, Harry had a bit of time to recover.

“What are you doing in physio by the way?” Louis asked while he was looking for a pen.

Harry sighed dramatically, “Knee exercises.”

Louis crackled up, “No shit, huh?”

The other boy rolled his eyes, “Yeah, no shit.” They looked at each other and smiled. “Yesterday, the therapist – who is secretly a sadist, just so you know – first got me a backpack with weights in it and then I had to step up and down a stepper. After that, he hooked me up to … actually, I don’t even want to know what that monster of a machine is.” Harry witnessed that Louis did his best not to crackle up yet again. “Yeah, you are laughing now. But let me tell you, this was beyond weird. He looped leather belts around my hip and my torso and my leg, one below and one over the knee, and then hooked those belts up to the machine. There were weights, Louis. And I had to move my leg and lift the weights while doing so. I almost fell over …”

The footballer looked at him from under his fringe and shook with silent laughter. “Seriously?”

Harry looked at him deadpan, “Do I look like I’m joking, Tomlinson?”

That caused the other teenager to topple over with a laughing fit. Secretly, Harry smiled to himself. “Well, at least you’re having fun with this …” he said in mock-annoyance.

Louis waved the hand that was not clutching his belly, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but …” Another laughing fit, “I just … The image, oh my God …”

Harry couldn’t help himself, he had to laugh as well. “Yes, _WEIRD_. I told you!”

After some time, the laughing had ceased and Louis looked up at Harry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. Most of all because …” He waved his head over to Harry’s knee and the other boy knew that Louis was again blaming himself.

The curly-headed boy shrugged, “Don’t worry. It is comical, if you think about it.”

“The leather belts are a bit much though …” Louis said and Harry nodded enthusiastically.

“Thank you Louis, that’s exactly what I was thinking. I mean, maybe it’s his thing, I don’t know and I don’t want to judge. But … seriously?!”

Louis chuckled but blushed a little and Harry realised that he might have taken things a bit too far. So he decided to head back to safer territory: “So, what about the book? You still like it?”

Louis, finally with a pen in his hand, stroke some hair out of his face and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I – I like it …”

Harry looked at him with his eyes wide open, slowly nodding. “Yeah, consider me convinced.”

Louis forced a snort out and Harry rolled his eyes: “Okay, what is it?” Louis didn’t answer straight away, but Harry knew anyway. The book was set in Maryland in the 1980s and – apart from his personal favourite Apron – a gay couple had a very prominent part in the storyline. “Why don’t you like the book, Louis?” Harry pressed on, “Maybe we can use it in the essay.”

Louis took a deep breath, “It’s hard for me to read about … this kind of thing, you know?”

Harry nodded. He didn’t understand why, but at least, Louis was being honest. That was a start. “Okay … Thanks, uh … Thank you for being so open, Louis. Can you explain why that is though? I don’t get it – obviously – but if you try to explain maybe we really can use it for our assignment.” Harry was clutching the tiniest straw here and hoped that it wouldn’t get too awkward yet again.

The other teenager ran a hand over his eyes, “You know that I’m not good with my words here, Harry …”

Harry smiled encouragingly, “Try.”

“Okay.” Louis scratched the back of his neck, “I guess … Uhm, I guess if you’ve lived through something like that yourself, reading about it is … weird. Because obviously you have different experiences. But in a way, it’s similar, you know …”

Harry’s brain stopped functioning around the time when the word _yourself_ fell. “You’re gay?!” the curly-headed teenager exclaimed in shock.

“WHAT?!” Louis screeched.

Harry waved his hands in the air, “But you said _lived through something like that yourself_.”

Louis looked at Harry pointedly, “I was talking about having to watch your mother dying, Harry.”

_Oh shit._ Then, Louis started to chuckle a little so Harry assumed he had said that one out loud. “Fuck, I am so sorry Louis … I didn’t even …”

The other teenager nodded, “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry.”

“I am _such_ an idiot!” Harry said, hiding his reddening face in his hands. He was beyond mortified, to say the least. How could he have just overlooked this? The whole town talked about how Johannah had died and how sad it had been.

All of a sudden, he felt a hand at his wrist, “Harry? You okay there?” Said hand tried to pull his own hands away from his face.

“No! Jesus Christ, I am so embarrassed …” The teenager shook his head.

He heard Louis chuckle, “It’s okay, really. Come on, look at me …”

Slowly, Harry let his hands sink down into his lap and he was faced with a smiling Louis. “There he is. Alright. So I guess we both have something we can write about in the essay then …”

“I guess so too”, Harry piped up.

Louis nodded, “Right, so let’s get some work done …” Only when Louis finally removed his hand from Harry’s wrist, the other boy realised that it had been sitting there the whole time.

“Absolutely.”

By the time Aunt Tilda came up with a few sandwiches and home-made lemonade, both teenagers had gotten quite some work done. “Ah, I see you’ve gotten cosy, very well …” she said before she placed a colourful tray on Harry’s desk. It was only then that Harry realised what picture the two of them actually painted: Harry sat with his back to the headboard of the bed, laptop perched on his knee, typing away while Louis lay beside him, head resting on his hand, looking at what he was writing while he dictated notes that he or Harry had written down during their discussion beforehand. Both teenagers blushed and Louis rose to sit next to Harry.

Harry’s aunt looked at them with a gleam in her eyes that Harry knew far too well. This wasn’t good. At all. “Since you can’t study on an empty stomach, I thought I’d bring you some sandwiches. It has gotten quite late after all …”

Louis looked panicked at his phone and cursed. Aunt Tilda only made a sour face, but didn’t say anything. Funny, she always reprimanded Niall, Harry thought. Probably because they knew each other way better. “I gotta call my sister, I’m sorry …” Louis muttered and typed away. Harry only mouthed a _Thank you_ to his aunt who gave Harry two thumbs up. She disappeared right when Louis started talking:

“Hey Lotts, I’m sorry, I completely lost the time … Alright. … Are you sure? … No, don’t make that, make pasta. There’s noodles …” he sighed, “ _Somewhere_ and in the cupboard over the sink should be some pesto. … Yeah? … But be careful. Are you sure I shouldn’t come over? … You’re a darling. See you later. … Love ya too, bye.” He hung up. “Sorry Harry but I wasn’t sure if the twins would get to eat something other than crisps and ice cream when I’m not coming over …” Harry looked at Louis in awe.

“What?” Louis said with a slight frown on his face, which shook Harry out of his stupor. “It’s amazing how you’re dealing with all this … How you look after your siblings. Honestly, I … I admire you for that.”

Louis blushed. “It’s nothing …”

“Oh, I beg to differ …” Harry said, “It’s everything. You make sure that they eat healthily and stay on track and … you look after them. It’s brilliant, Louis.”

The other teenager blushed even more.

“It’s none of my business, obviously, but … Why doesn’t your Dad do that? Make them … pasta?” Harry asked. He probably overstepped and was highly aware of it, but it had bugged him since his aunt had mentioned that Louis did most of the household chores.

Louis sighed, rubbing his face: “It’s complicated … I … He … You see, Mum was the love if his life. She really was. But he was never really able to tell her … So I guess I know where I got my clumsiness with words from, yeah?” Harry smiled while Louis continued, “He was always more quiet than Mum, but when she died, it got worse. He … He couldn’t cope with it. He didn’t talk about it with any of us and … just when we thought it would get a bit better, Fizzy died. He lost it completely after that. He … Uhm, he barely leaves his office in the house anymore, he won’t see anybody and it’s … it’s though. I mean, how do you explain to your ten year-old sisters that now that their Mum and their sister died, their Dad doesn’t wanna see them either?”

It was like a punch to Harry’s gut. “I can’t even begin to imagine Louis …”

“So I had to take over. I mean, what were we supposed to do? Starve to death because he doesn’t do the shopping anymore? Wear smelly clothes because he can’t be arsed to load a single washing machine?” Louis shook his head, “I don’t want to sound like I’m ranting about my Dad, I get it. It is though on him but … But … we’ve lost them too …”

Even if Louis was shielding his eyes from Harry, the teenager knew that he was crying again. Shoving his laptop off his leg, Harry scooted over and hugged Louis from the side. “You’re so brave Louis … And I know – even though I didn’t know her – that your Mum would be so proud of you …” While Louis sobbed quietly, Harry lay his head carefully onto the other boy’s shoulder. He felt Louis gripping one of Harry’s lower arms with his hand. Maybe it was because Louis had told him about the smelly clothes before, but he realised that Louis smelled of lemon and leather – the latter probably from his old backpack. Harry thought it was an intriguing mixture.

Yet again, he lost track of time for how long they had stayed like this but suddenly, Louis moved and Harry loosened the hug. Embarrassed, Louis wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his denim shirt. “Why is it that I always end up crying in your presence, Harry Styles?”

“Because of my charming nature?” Harry said with a falsely wide grin.

Louis chuckled and patted Harry’s knee: “Thanks Harry. I … I think I needed to get that out at some point. And I’m sorry I slobbered all over you …”

Harry chuckled, looking down on his flowery shirt that had a few wet batches on it. “No harm done. And … if you every feel the need to slobber over anybody, you know where to find me.” He winked and Louis chuckled, eyes still glassy.

“Should we …” Louis cleared his throat after his voice came out all raspy, “Should we have a go at those sandwiches then? I am actually quite hungry …”

The curly-headed boy smiled, “Sure. It would be a shame to let them go to waste …”

Louis got up from the bed before Harry, being seated closer to the edge and all, and when Harry followed, a sharp pain shot through his leg. Involuntarily, he screamed out and would certainly have crashed to the floor, if Louis hadn’t caught him in his arms.

“Harry? What’s the matter?” Louis asked worried.

All breath was knocked out from Harry’s lungs due to the continuous pain, “My … oh FUCK …my leg …”

Alarmed, Louis looked down. That was all Harry saw because he had to close his eyes.

“Oh shit … Alright, Harry! Listen to me. You have to stand on the leg …”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, absolutely sure that he would topple over if he even tried. Tears welled up in his eyes and he started sweating.

“I’ll support you, just put your foot down and try to put all your weight on it …” For lack of anything better to do, Harry did as he was told, highly aware that this was his injured leg Louis was talking about. He wasn’t sure if putting weight on it really was the best idea.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Aunt Tilda stood in the doorway. “Did I hear a … Harry darling, what’s wrong?”

Harry only shook his head, still in immense pain, so Louis answered for him: “I’m pretty sure his leg is cramping. We sat too long on the bed like that …”

“Oh dear!” Aunt Tilda exclaimed, waving her finger in the air, “Magnesium powder. I’ll get some. You make sure to put more pressure on your leg Harry, alright?”

The addressed teenager only nodded, being vaguely aware that the pain lessened – at least somewhat. And Louis was there, holding him around the waist, Harry’s arms lying over the footballer’s shoulder. “Breathe Harry, in and out. Come on …” The curly-headed boy tried his best to follow Louis’ instructions. And he was thankful, that the other boy kept talking just to take his mind off his cramping leg. “It’s important that you keep breathing Harry, don’t tense up. You blood needs the oxygen to make the cramps go away. In and out … There you go.”

When the pain was almost bearable, his aunt came back in with a glass of something bubbly. “Here willow, drink that, it’ll help …”

Aunt Tilda came around and steadied Harry from the other side while he drank the liquid. She stroke up and down Harry’s back until Harry felt himself relax. “I … I think I’m alright …” he said, highly aware of the awkward situation.

But Louis would have none of it, “Oh no, you’ll keep standing like that for another minute at least. Otherwise it’ll come back immediately …”

“Isn’t it great to have a footballer at your side during incidents like this? Louis knows what to do …” Aunt Tilda supplied and Harry nodded, “Aces.”

After some time, Louis and Tilda sat Harry down on one of the chairs. “Keep your foot pressed to the floor, keep putting weight on it”, Louis instructed and Harry nodded. He did as he was told.

Aunt Tilda said, “I have some soup on the stove that I have to see to, but if you need anything, just yell. And if it doesn’t stop, we have to call the ambulance …”

Harry rolled his eyes. He hated hospitals. When they were alone again, Louis brought Harry a sandwich and sat down on the other empty chair at the desk. “Keep pressure on it”, he instructed as soon as he saw Harry easing the weight on his foot.

“You had this as well?” Harry asked and took a bite from the sandwich to distract himself.

Louis nodded, “Yeah, when I started playing football. It’s due to the building of muscle. I’m sure it’s because of your kinky therapy session yesterday.” Louis smirked and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Great, now I have pain to go – how awesome is that?”

Louis chuckled, biting into his own sandwich. “This is good … Harry, can I ask you something?”

The curly-headed teenager nodded, “Since you saved my life just now, sure.”

Louis blushed a little and took another bite from the sandwich, “Why does your aunt call you willow?”

Harry blushed, “Oh God, you noticed?”

Louis nodded, “Yes, I have. So spill, why does she call you willow?”

“Ungh, okay”, Harry started on the tale of his nickname, “It’s from a few years back. I wanted to grow out my hair – it was about this long back then – “ Harry showed Louis with his fingers the approximate length of his hair, “And that didn’t go down too well. For a long time I wore headscarves and stuff, which Aunt Tilda loved, by the way …”

Louis smirked, “I can imagine.”

“… so that my hair would not fall into my face constantly. But when I took it off, at night or whenever, it of course still did. And one day, Aunt Tilda said when I was helping her in the garden in the early morning: _Harry, you go right into the bathroom and get yourself a hairband. You look like a willow._ And that, as they say, was that. The name stuck.”

Louis chuckled and Harry blushed yet again, “It’s embarrassing …”

“Oh, I don’t think so; I think it’s cute.” Harry’s head shot up to look quizzically at Louis, who blushed in turn, “I mean, it suits you, that’s all …”

“If you say so …” Harry said doubtfully and both finished their sandwiches in comfortable silence. Once they were done, Louis turned towards Harry on his chair. “Come on, give me your leg.”

“What?” Harry asked, almost spitting out the lemonade he just had a sip of.

Louis waved towards his upper legs, “Move your foot up here … I’m just going to check your muscles.”

Doubtfully, Harry raised his leg and laid it down in Louis’ _crotch_ , for crying out loud. Louis, however, seemed completely unfazed and started kneading Harry’s calf. “Ouch! Christ!” Harry exclaimed and Louis smiled up at him, “Do not take the Lord’s name in vain, Styles.”

“Fuck! This is … ow … This is torture. Why are you doing this to me?” Harry wound himself on the chair. And there he thought that he had been through enough pain today.

“I’m easing your muscles”, Louis explained while he kept running his hands expertly over Harry’s calf. In other circumstances, Harry might have found this arousing, but right now, he tried his best not to scream out in pain. “So that you can get a good night’s sleep tonight and not wake up every hour with yet another a leg cramp. Trust me, I’ve been there …”

“Whatever you say, Tomlinson …” Harry hissed through gritted teeth.

Once he was done, Louis bid Harry goodbye. Not before he made the curly-headed teenager promise him to drink a lot of water before going to bed. Which Harry did. And when he woke up the next morning with a blissfully pain-free leg, he grabbed his phone and sent an _I slept very well, thanks to you :)_ to Louis.


	8. Chapter 8

“But he can’t keep you from going to the trainings, Haz …” Niall kept muttering when they made their way to English the next Monday. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Well apparently, you are too simple minded as to focus on _THE GAME_ ”, Harry mimicked Mr. Corden’s voice, “ _and_ me. So I don’t know.”

Niall shook his head, “That guy is a menace.” Once they sat down at their usual tables, a grin spread over the Irishman’s face, “You know what you should do?”

Harry grinned. This was going to be good. “What?”

“Come to all of our trainings … or well, some, and always wear something completely outrageous.” Niall looked at him in utmost excitement.

Harry raised his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like …” Niall pinched his nose, “Like that yellow hat that you have.” The blonde beamed at Harry.

Harry frowned. “Seriously? Not even I would wear that during the day …” He had brought it along as one of his more flashy Halloween outfits.

“But that’s the point”, Niall clapped his hands together in excitement, “Corden will be furious. Oh my God, this will be great.”

“What will be great?” Liam, who had just entered the class asked and plopped down at a table behind them. Louis followed behind him and sat down as well. Harry grinned at him and Louis smiled back.

“If Harry wears a completely outrageous outfit every time he comes to our training. No! _When_ Harry will wear a completely outrageous outfit every time he comes to our trainings. Corden will get a fit!” Niall explained.

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know about this …”

Liam, however, thought differently. He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Harry, you have to!” the footballer exclaimed excitedly.

“Oh, do I?” Harry asked sarcastically.

The brown-eyed teenager nodded, “YES! Yes, yes, yes. This will be great. Corden will freak out. Considering how often he does freak us out, it’s only fair.”

“I agree!” Niall nodded enthusiastically.

Suddenly, Louis piped up – and very helpfully at that: “Hey, this way, maybe I will get to see the mint-green pants!”

Niall’s head whipped around: “What pants?” He looked back and forth between Harry and Louis, “What _pants_? Harry, why does he know about a pair of pants that I haven’t heard anything about?”

Harry groaned dramatically, “Louis, this was supposed to be our secret!”

Liam chuckled, Niall still whipped his head around (Harry wondered how anybody could have that much energy on a Monday morning) and Louis started blushing. Awesome.

Harry considered Louis’ next question as a distraction from his pants: “What if Corden corners him again like he did last week?”

Again, the blonde Irishman’s head whipped towards Harry: “Corden cornered you? Wow like, strange play of words … Question remains: He cornered you?!”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, told me I am distracting his players and stuff … I told you this.” Harry replied exasperated.

Niall, however, only shook his head, “Not that he cornered you …”

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to play the whole thing down but Liam waved him off: “It was crazy. He touched Harry on the shoulder and called him Harold. Weird.” Louis nodded in agreement.

“Alright class, let’s commence today’s buffet for thought …” Mr. Branagh boomed from the front. Niall made a disgusted face and both teenagers turned around. “Before I am going to update myself on your projects we will be discussing literature analysis.”

“Ungh!” Niall actually let his head drop to the desk. Harry grinned and nudged him in the side. “I hope that at least a few of you are a little more excited than Mr. Horan, and even if not, I do not care.” Harry smirked. “Still, you most of all should pay attention, Mr. Horan because _The Red Dragon_ is a masterpiece in character development – consider this a hint – that needs to be thoroughly analysed.”

Niall sighed and put a finger gun to his head. Harry heard Louis chuckle in the background. “Yeah, you can laugh alright, Lou. You have Harry!” Liam whispered. Somehow it made Harry’s stomach do flip flops. He grinned to himself, even though he didn’t hear Louis say anything in return. Maybe he just shrugged or something.

Once they were told by Mr. Branagh to assemble in their teams, Liam went over to Heather so Harry switched a row back and plopped down next to Louis. “Hey.”

“Hi”, Louis grinned at him. Once Harry sat down, Louis said “And Louis, how far have you gotten?” in a poor impression of Harry’s voice.

The curly-headed teenager frowned at Louis, “First: That’s not what I sound like. Second: This is not the first thing I ask you at every meeting. And third: Really? We’re making jokes about each other now?”

Louis shrugged and looked sheepishly at Harry from under his bangs. After a moment’s hesitation, Harry started to chuckle. “Alright, so … How far have you gotten?”

After a brief staring match, both teenagers started chuckling and only stopped when Mr. Branagh cleared his throat next to them. After their teacher raised an eyebrow, Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. Louis too cleared his throat. “I am almost finished. Will be by Saturday. So maybe we can finish the essay then …” Louis looked down on where he was running the corner of his black notebook between his index finger and his thumb. “You’re all done, right?”

“Yeah”, Harry confirmed and grinned. Somehow he felt sad that their little project would soon be over – not that he wanted to pay that too much mind either.

Louis nodded, small smile on his face, “Of course you are.”

Maybe, a few weeks ago, this statement would have sounded like venom out of Louis’ mouth – at least that’s how Harry imagined the “old” Louis to say that – but right now it sounded like the other teenager knew Harry that well. Which, Harry had to admit, probably was the case. He smiled to himself.

“And, before you ask me how I liked it, you’ll have to wait until Saturday …” Louis grinned at him and Harry, running his hand through his hair, nodded. “Okay then, I can wait, I guess … What are we going to do now then?”

Louis shrugged, “Talking about how we keep you away from Corden when you come to our training today …”

Harry looked over at the footballer, “You want me to come?”

Louis blushed, “Yeah … and Niall and Liam too, so …”

“So I have no choice …” Harry added dramatically and Louis snorted, “Don’t make it sound like we’re torturing you …”

Harry pointed his finger at Louis: “You might not, but Corden will … I’m telling you.”

Both teenagers grinned at each other. And, for the love of God, Harry was looking forward to football practise. What on earth had become of him?

As it turned out, Coach Corden had switched his tactics this week. Not in terms of coaching, those were still as weird as ever, at least I Harry’s book, but in terms of Harry. This time, he did not talk to the curly-headed teenager, but stared at him. The entire time. One time he even made the “I see you”-motion with his hand. It was terrifying. Harry swore that he watched him sitting on the side way more than he watched his actual team. Probably to connect with the _audience_ or something. The audience consisted of him and a few girls who were salivating – probably over Liam. Harry had to admit that the guy was right fit – and, on top of that – nice. He had been super friendly with Harry since the time he had talked to him for the first time in the cafeteria. And he had gotten close with Niall too … and, as it appeared, re-connected with Louis.

Harry grinned to himself. He connecting with the footballers on a level where he knew about their private lives. Who would have thought?

“What do you guys say? Burgers?” Liam cheered once they were on their way to the parking lot.

Niall raised his fist in triumph, “YEAH! Payno, my man! Speaking right from my heart.” The blonde looked expectantly at Harry, who only shrugged, “I guess. I just have to call Aunt Tilda and tell her that I’ll eat out …”

“Awesome”, Liam clapped him on the back. “Lou?”

“Nah man, I’m sorry …” Louis said and Harry’s heart sank a little. “I can’t tonight …”

Liam frowned, “Why? I thought Lottie was watching the twins tonight?”

The other boy only shrugged. Liam looked at Louis quizzically while Niall raised an eyebrow at Harry. The curly-headed teenager only shrugged. Louis buried his hands deep in his jeans’ pockets and looked firmly at his vans. And suddenly, realisation dawned on Liam’s face, “Oh, listen man, I can …”

“Don’t”, Louis raised his hand, “Just don’t. I’m fine.”

Louis didn’t look up and didn’t say anything as he got in his car and drove off.

“Shit”, was all Liam said and ran a hand through his still damp hair.

Niall turned around with his arms outstretched, “Okay, what was that? Li?”

The brown-haired footballer shook his head, “Nothing. Listen, rain-check on the burgers?”

“Uh sure”, Niall said confused while Liam nodded absentmindedly. The Irishman threw a hand on his chest, “Though you wound me deeply, Payne.”

The other teenager looked at them like a kicked puppy, “Sorry. I think uh, I think I’ll just head home guys …”

“Alright, see you man …” Niall said Harry waved haphazardly as the other footballer walked towards his bike.

“Weird!” the blonde exclaimed as soon as Liam had driven off. Harry nodded, “Yup.”

“But my burgers!” Niall sighed with so much drama in his voice that Harry had to chuckle. “Harry, this is serious! Don’t play down my needs …”

The taller teenager slung an arm around the Irishman’s shoulder as they started walking towards Niall’s car. “Nialler, I am almost offended that you don’t consider me sufficient burger company. So either, we still go for burgers even if it’s just the two of us …”

“Or?” the blonde whined.

“Or…” Harry continued, “You come home with me. I think Aunt Tilda is making veggie lasagna.”

The blonde’s head whipped around. “The good one with the eggplant and the zucchini?”

Harry nodded, “That exact one, yes.”

“Off with us to get you home …” the other teenager exclaimed and ran towards his car.

Harry chuckled, “I can’t believe you can still run after practise!”

Niall turned around and shot him a blinding grin, “Food is the best motivator. You should know this.”

Shaking his head, Harry jogged over to the car. Still, he kept wondering about Louis the entire evening.

As fate would have it, two days later, on Wednesday evening, Harry got his answer.

He had agreed to accompany his aunt to the supermarket to get their weekly shopping done. His aunt believed that one weekly shopping trip was enough so they always got a shit ton of stuff and reduced that until they went shopping again the week after that. He hovered with his aunt over by the vegetables when he saw Louis move a cart right into the aisle with the pasta. The teenager craned his neck to maybe catch a glimpse into the aisle so he didn’t realise his aunt casting him an interested look.

“Harry darling, are you paying attention?”

The curly head whipped around, “What?”

With a sigh, Tilda turned back towards the display. “It is of vital importance to pay attention to the food we are buying, Harry. The peppers deserve our attention.”

Harry chuckled, “Of course they do. Sorry Aunt Tilda …”

“No problem. Now, should we go for red or rather for yellow? What will blend in better with the other food?” Harry’s aunt tapped the bridge of her nose.

“What other food? I don’t even know what you are going to make with them.” Harry loved his aunt dearly, most of all her quirkiness, but sometimes she just was a bit much.

The tall woman raised her finger, “Good point, neither do I. Still … tough decision.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe we take two of both? Just to be safe?”

“Good thinking, willow”, she said and packed two yellow and two red peppers into their cart. The teenager grinned at his aunt and she slapped him playfully on the arm. Pushing the cart in front of him, Harry said: “Next up, noodles. We need some, right?”

Aunt Tilda nodded enthusiastically, “Oh yes. I want to make pasta verdure this week. Maybe with the peppers. The herbs are growing in the garden already. Oh, it will be fabulous …” Harry smiled and rounded the corner, holding his breath for the moment. Was Louis still in the aisle?

Yes, he was. He was putting some pasta from the cart into the shelf only to see one of his twin sisters throw it in the cart again. “Daisy! I said no …”

“But I want those!” the girl whined, while her twin sister danced around the cart. “Because they are colourful …” she supplied.

Louis sighed, “It’s only the packaging Dais.”

“I still want them”, she emphasised and Louis rubbed his eyes. “I said no!”

“You’re so mean!” Daisy – apparently – pouted and sat down on the floor with crossed arms. The footballer closed his eyes and turned his head towards the ceiling. Probably in silent prayer.

Of course it was that moment where Harry crashed his cart into one of the movable displays standing around. He winced. Great, just great!

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed and Phoebe’s head spun around. “HARRY!” the smaller Tomlinson exclaimed and ran towards the teenager. Her sister remained firmly on the ground.

Harry waved while Aunt Tilda greeted them formally by their names. All three of them. Phoebe stopped right in front of Harry and looked at him quizzically. “Hello.” She grinned toothily at him.

“Uh … hello. Phoebe, is it?” Harry grinned insecurely.

“YES!” The girl seemed positively thrilled. “I like your shirt. It has flowers on it.”

Harry nodded, “Yep. I like the shirt too.” He grinned lopsidedly.

Phoebe’s head spun around, “Louis, do you like Harry’s shirt too?”

The addressed teenager ran a hand through his hair, “It looks positively divine on him. Now, Daisy, would you please get up so we can continue our shopping?”

Why was Harry under the impression that the other teen hadn’t even spared a glance at his shirt, but then again, he couldn’t blame Louis. His sister was still sitting on the floor. “No.” The girl said and continued her pouting.

“What seems to be the problem, young Lady?” Aunt Tilda asked and raised her eyebrow at the girl sitting on the floor. “To be sitting on the floor like that is terribly unsanitary. So I hope you have a good reason.”

“Louis won’t buy the noodles that I like because he is mean.”

Louis hung his head and shook his head, “Sorry Harry, Ms Selley; you really don’t need to be involved in our family drama.”

Harry smiled at the girl sitting on the floor. “Hm, one should never underestimate the importance of noodles. So, Daisy, why would you like those noodles that Louis won’t buy you?”

Once he crouched down in front of the pouting girl, she looked up. “They’re colourful. I like them.”

“Hm”, Harry said and nodded, reaching out and taking the pack into his hands. “But … Daisy, the noodles themselves are not colourful. They’re just … noodle-coloured.” Phoebe giggled and Louis was looking at Harry with an expression that all but said that he would bring it up – most likely in English class.

Daisy, apparently seeing the fault in her initial plan, bit her lip. Still, she remained silent. “What about …” Harry started, taking a pack of noodles from the bottom of the shelf, “… those. Oh yes, I think you should take those. See, the noodles are colourful there and not only the packaging.”

Daisy’s eyes shone in wonder and she grabbed the pack. “Can we take those?!” she shouted towards Louis. “Please, Lou Lou, _please_!” Harry smirked. If Louis would bring up _noodle-coloured_ , he would bring up Lou Lou. It was only fair.

Louis exhaled, “Fine Dais, put them in.”

“YAY!” Both girls cheered and the pack sailed into the cart. “Now girls, we need to get going. Ms Selley, Harry …”

“Bye Louis, take care”, Aunt Tilda said and Harry waved again while Louis mouthed a _Thank you_ at him.

Once they were out if sight, Aunt Tilda slipped her arm through Harry’s elbow. “It was nice of you to take the cheaper brand, willow.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah …” Harry felt bad. He really did. Of course, they didn’t have money to burn either, but at least he could go for a burger every once in a while. How much Louis’ mother’s treatments must have cost, Harry could not imagine. And the funeral, two funerals. And then raising four kids … The curly-headed boy shook his head. He was almost ashamed that he hadn’t thought about this beforehand.

“Listen Aunt Tilda …” Harry started as he slowly pushed their cart forward, “I was thinking … since Louis is coming around on Saturday for the essay again: Maybe we could invite them for lunch? Like, him and his siblings?”

Tilda squeezed Harry’s upper arm, “Good idea. We shall invite their father too, although I am sure he will not come.”

“Poor Louis …” Harry said more to himself than to Aunt Tilda as they ventured towards the jasmine rice.

Once Harry invited Louis and his siblings for lunch on Saturday, he almost didn’t expect the footballer to agree. Of course, he gave Harry a few “No, you really don’t have to”s and “We’re busy”s but after all, he agreed. And just before lunch, he and the twins arrived. Apparently, Lottie was doing something with some friends of hers and their father – as predicted – did not join them. Aunt Tilda had made a few rather fancy quiches that they split up because, of course, the twins wanted to taste everything. Phoebe complimented Harry on his shirt yet again – flamingos today – and during lunch, Louis once smiled at Harry in a way that sped up the teenager’s heartbeat. Most of all because Harry knew how much strength it must have cost the other teenager to agree to let Harry – or his aunt – help them. Not in an “I’ll shove money into your face”-way; he’d never agreed to that. But in a more subtle way. Harry smiled back quietly.

After Harry and Aunt Tilda had brought in the dishes from the veranda, she told the two teenage boys to go up and work on their essay. “I’ll busy the girls in the garden. We could make flower crowns or something like that …” Harry gave his aunt two thumbs up and called Louis to follow him up to his room. Once in there, Harry found himself engulfed in a bone crushing hug by the footballer. All air got knocked out pf Harry’s lungs by the sheer force with which Louis hugged him.

“Thank you Harry.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You think it’s any good?”

Harry accompanied Louis to the football field after they handed in their essay that very Friday. It was crazy how fast time went by – it had been a month. After both of them had finished writing the essay almost a week ago, to Louis’ astonishment really, really early, Harry had suggested to wait with handing it in. He proposed to wait a few days and only then re-read it. To the curly-headed teenager’s surprise, they had only made minor changes. Usually, Harry was rearranging this and rephrasing that up to a point where he had rewritten almost the entire text. But this time, he did have Louis.

Louis, who said things like “Why would you change that?” or “No, leave this, I like how the sentence sounds.” And surprisingly, Harry had let the other teenager convince him. So, they handed the essay in by May the 29th. Not bad.

Harry looked over at Louis while walking to the field, “We’ll see, I guess.”

Louis slapped him on the bicep, “Come on, you’re good at this, Harry. You know if the text is crap or not.”

Harry laughed, “I can never tell with my own texts, I swear.” The footballer frowned at him, “But for what it’s worth, I like it. I think we explained on how the book relates to both of us – and therefore, potentially to others – in great detail. And this relevance to people’s very own and very private problems is why we consider it literature. Even though it’s a YA novel. That was the task. So, let’s hope Mr. Branagh likes it as well.” He grinned at the slightly smaller student.

And indeed they had. Last Saturday had been spent almost entirely in Harry’s room, playing ideas back and forth. Up to then, they had spent most of their “assignment time” summarising the novel’s content. But now, it was time for their analysis of the relevant topics. And there really were a lot. How Apron connected with Chad and Mike because she had no prejudices about gay people. How their flower shop and been under attack – and that dab at homophobia had surely not been a coincidence. How Apron dealt with the death of her mother and his father’s wife-to-be, whom she hated. This led to how somebody can be free of stereotypes in one area and have quite some prejudices in the other. And. So. On. It had been way past seven at night when the twins invaded Harry’s room, telling the two boys to stop writing because they were hungry and had prepared dinner with Aunt Tilda.

Harry had been amazed how much Louis had opened up to him during that weekend. Not only because he had accepted his offer to help with his family situation a little bit, but also because he had talked a lot about how helpless he felt after his mother’s death, the death of his sister and how helpless he still felt every day. At that very moment, Harry had put an arm around the footballer’s shoulder and told him how great he was – which he absolutely convinced about by now. And there was this little voice in Harry’s head that told him that he was starting to feel something for Louis on a whole different level, but Harry tried his best to shut that one up. This was ridiculous after all, wasn’t it?

“Oh, I’m sure he will.” Harry snapped back into the present at Louis’ voice, “He’s practically drooling over you the entire time.”

Harry wrinkled his nose, “I’m not sure I like where this is going …”

Louis, however, was relentless: “ _Oh yes, Mr. Styles, do continue. Ah, Mr. Styles, yes … Very insightful, as usual, Mr. Styles. Please, Mr. Styles, give me something that is not complete rubbish …_ ” Harry crackled up at Louis’ hilarious impression of their English teacher.

The brown-haired footballer looked over at Harry smugly, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Harry shrugged and grinned at Louis. “I just like English, okay?” he replied defensively.

“Oh yes, I know”, Louis said and slapped Harry fondly on his arm.

They had arrived at the football field and, as they were early, sat down in the grass. At the sight of Harry struggling a little with his injured leg, Louis steadied Harry by offering him his hands and by steading him while sitting down. “Quite the gentleman, thanks Mr. Tomlinson”, Harry said while he smiled up at a blushing Louis.

The sunshine warmed their backs and Harry sighed contently. This was nice. The curly-headed teenager looked over at Louis, “Hey, where are Niall and Liam by the way?” Somehow, they had both disappeared while Harry and Louis had been talking about their assignment.

Louis shrugged, “Probably in the cafeteria …”

Harry chuckled, “Most likely place to find Niall for sure …”

Louis’ smile looked a bit forced and Harry frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing”, Louis answered way too quickly. At Harry’s pointed look, the footballer rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I wanted to ask you something.”

Harry grinned, “Ask away.”

“Of course, it’s none of my business but …” Louis looked down at the blade of grass he was twirling between his fingers, “uh … You and Niall … I wondered …”

As Louis didn’t offer anything further, Harry asked, “Me and Niall what?”

“Are you, like … together or something?” Louis’ voice was barely audible.

Harry’s laugh, in turn, could surely be heard on the other side of the field. Probably in the cafeteria as well. He half-expected Niall to run out and shout “Why are you having this much fun without me?!” any second.

Louis, on the other hand, looked very confused. So Harry explained, “No …” He still had to chuckle, “No, no. Niall and I, we’re not together. Jesus Christ, the thought … No.”

“Oh”, Louis seemed almost relieved at this new piece of information, “Okay. As I said, it’s none of my business anyways, but as you always … stick together, and arrive together at school and … you usually touch or something I thought …”

“So we touch a lot, do we?” Harry asked smugly. Louis blushed immediately. Harry shook his head, “I’m just teasing. But yeah, I suppose we do. He started it though. Niall is super-physical, like, he touches you all the time. Takes some getting used to but … In the end I started doing just the same.” He looked over at Louis, “Just you wait, he’ll start touching you too in no time. _Be prepared_.” Harry added with a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah?” Louis asked and Harry nodded enthusiastically, “Definitely.”

They smiled at each other, Harry leaning back on his elbows. “Also, Niall’s straight. I mean, I don’t know if he’s straight _straight_ , but he has only dated girls up to now. Time will tell, I guess …”

Louis said something that Harry didn’t quite catch. “Sorry what?”

Louis’ gaze flickered nervously between Harry’s face and the blade of grass in his hand. “Are you?”

“What? Straight?” Harry asked in amusement. “Louis, you know me better than this …” Even though Harry’s voice intended a joke, the addressed teenager’s heart sped up. Not because he thought Louis to be a homophobe anymore – that had been cleared during their essay-writing – but because the whole topic made him nervous.

The footballer threw his hands in the air. “Do I? I mean, at first, I thought you had to be gay because of …” he waved towards Harry and the curly-headed teenager knew that he meant his auburn pants and the colourful shirt he was wearing, “… that. Then, you tell me that this is only a stereotype which, of course, I know …”

Harry remembered their time in the car when Louis had taken Harry home after football practise. It was crazy that the other boy still remembered that. Then again, he had obviously thought about this quite a bit. To defuse the tension, Harry threw a dramatic hand to his chest, “Louis, you don’t know how proud of you I am in this very moment …”

The footballer rolled his eyes, “Shut up!” That was said with a grin though and Harry mirrored it. “And then, we discuss the book and you tell me all of these things about being not-straight and how hard it is and whatnot … Colour me and my simple mind confused, Styles.”

Harry laughed and sat back up again. He nodded to himself for a bit, being aware that he probably caught that one from Louis himself, and bit his lip in thought. “Actually Louis, you just said it yourself. I consider myself not-straight.” At the questioning look of Louis, he continued, “Listen: No matter how confident I look or how flashy my clothes are, I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, okay? When I was fourteen, there was this girl living in the flat next to ours and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. One day we kissed and I was over the moon. Best first kiss ever. We were together for the entirety of eleven days.”

Louis tried his best not to chuckle but failed miserably. Harry threw his index finger up, “Do not mock this, this was serious. I thought I would die when she left me for that dickhead Tyler Fisherman.” Now Louis couldn’t help himself, he laughed out loudly. Harry grinned at Louis and continued, “So that was that. Then, at fifteen, I had this job at a bakery over the summer and there was this guy who came in every day. Tall, dirty blonde, blue eyes, muscular, way too old.” Louis smiled and Harry rolled his eyes at the memory. “I was so nervous every time he ordered his venti cappuccino that one day I spilled it all over his expensive suit.” Louis cringed and Harry nodded, “Yep. Of course, he was super nice about it … But it was still embarrassing as hell.”

“And?” Louis asked.

“And nothing. He kept coming and ordering his venti cappuccino, sometimes ordering a soy latte for his lovely wife.”

“Meh”, Louis supplied.

“Meh indeed”, Harry laughed and sighed. “You have no idea what kind of wild romance my fifteen year-old brain made up every time I saw him.”

“Oh yeah?” Louis winked at him and now it was Harry who blushed. “And then, of course, there was Zayn.”

“Who’s Zayn?” Louis asked and Harry quietly questioned his sanity. Who on earth would he bring Zayn up? Now? While talking with Louis, who had absolutely not asked for more information about Harry’s _conquests_? Well, he supposed he had to answer now.

“Zayn was … is the son of the headmaster of the school I went to. We had design and abstract arts class together. And he was handsome, my God, he was so handsome. Still is, I suppose …” Harry shrugged. “It was the first time that a guy whom I found attractive returned my interest. It was amazing and I was over the moon. We spent our lunch breaks together, we met after school, went to the movies together, went shopping, the likes … And he was so nice to me the entire time. So one day, when we were at his house working on some art project I thought, fuck it, I’ll take the risk and kissed him.”

Louis’ eyes were fixed solely on him by then. “And? … Don’t say _and nothing_.”

“Oh no, that wasn’t nothing. Absolutely not. It was terrible. He started screaming the house down. You know, not a subtle _Harry, I don’t feel the same_ or _Harry, I’m straight_ …. No. He made sure to make my life a living hell at school, plastering faggot in graffiti over my locker and shit like that. He could only get away with it because he was the son of the headmaster, I guess.” Harry bit his lip. Even though it was over a year ago, it still hurt.

“Maybe it wasn’t him …?” Louis supplied, but Harry chuckled. “Please Louis, I’ve been sitting through design class with the guy. I know his weird twists on a ‘g’.”

“’M sorry, Harry”, Louis said after a moment of silence. And then, “So that’s why you came here? To Lower Tadford?”

“Yup, that’s why. I just couldn’t stand the bullying anymore …” Harry confessed. “Oh God, the nodding. Louis, why are you nodding to yourself again? This creeps me out …”

The other teenager chuckled bitterly, “And then we started the exact same thing over here again. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“Well, at least no one demolished my locker with disgustingly great graffiti”, the curly-headed teenager joked and Louis smiled at him weakly. “You know what?” Harry asked and Louis only shook his head, “Of course it was bad here too, but at least it was open. It was like _Hey you! Gay kid, we don’t like you_. But there, it was all so hypocritical. Because _of course the world of artists and designers accepts gay people. We are all so open-minded and not prejudiced and everyone should express who they are with no limitation. Right up until you are faced with someone gay_ or … whatever. Boo-hoo! They and their subtle remarks and meaningful looks are actually worse.”

“I’m still sorry”, Louis said and briefly touched Harry’s wrist.

Harry smiled at the other teenager, “I know. So, for the record: I have no clue how to label my sexuality. Am I gay because at fourteen I simply didn’t know better than to kiss a girl? Whom I really liked by the way. Bi? Pan? No clue … But, as you said, I am definitely not-straight.”

Louis blushed, “What’s Pan? … Sorry, you must think I’m a complete idiot.”

Harry pushed his hair back out of his face, “No Louis, jeez! I had to click myself through a few tumblrs myself. Pansexual is if you are … well, basically attracted to people of all genders. Bi only includes men and women but what about other genders, right? People who do not want to label themselves? Pan includes everyone …”

Louis smiled quietly, “So it’s basically the bisexual add-on.”

Harry laughed out loudly at that one and had to admit that Louis did have a point.

“Hey, why are you laughing without us? Rude, people …” Niall said from behind them as he and Liam approached. Harry briefly wondered if he was in the twilight zone …

After Harry had sat through football practise yet again, he was sure that he was getting better about comprehending what was going on in front of him. Maybe the crash course Louis, Liam and Niall had given him had helped too. Even though he got glared at by Mr. Corden yet again, he really started to enjoy it. And he was amazed by how fit each and every of the players must be. To be able to run around the field for ninety minutes – sometimes more – was beyond him.

Walking towards the school’s parking lot, Liam suggested that, since it was getting warmer and warmer every day, they could meet up by the lake the following day.

“Wait, there is a lake?” Harry exclaimed. “Why has no one told me before?!”

Niall frowned, “Haz, when you arrived, it was almost freezing already. Why would we go to the lake then?”

“Because it’s potentially beautiful, you heathen!” Harry couldn’t believe that neither Niall not has aunt – of all people – had told him about this. “Where is it anyways?”

“Just a little out of town, maybe a fifteen minute drive. It’s not big but quite nice”, Liam explained and slapped Louis on the back. “We could go sometime before noon and make a day out of it. You could bring your sisters. It’ll be fun.”

Louis nodded, “Yeah. That would work.”

“Awesome”, Liam exclaimed. “So Niall, Harry and I can ride in Niall’s car, you bring your sisters and we all have a great day. Woo-hoo!” The cheering footballer made the other three teenager’s smile brightly.

“Sounds good”, Niall said and Harry nodded enthusiastically. They agreed to meet at the parking spot at the lake at ten.

This is where the three teenagers riding with a, due to tiredness, very quiet Niall met Louis who carried a proper hiking backpack and a monster of a swim tire while the twins were dancing around him. Upon closer inspection, the swim tire revealed yet another Tomlinson girl who looked a lot like the twins. Lottie, Harry presumed.

“Hey there, Tomlinsons!” Liam shouted once Niall had parked the car. The twins squealed and jumped the footballer, apparently confident that he would catch them both. Harry grinned and waved, shouting a “Hey!” towards the group. Louis grinned pointedly while Niall immediately went towards the trunk and got his bag out. As Harry walked over to Louis, the footballer frowned at him: “What’s wrong with our Irish sunshine over there?”

Harry chuckled, “He’s tired. He stayed up way too late skyping with Tash and I do not want to know what they were doing …”

Louis made a disgusted face. Then he asked. “Who’s Tash?”

“A girl he met back in Ireland.”

Louis nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. While Harry shouldered his own backpack, he heard an unfamiliar voice saying: “Now that we know who Tash is, I’d like to confirm that you are Harry …” Louis’ sister – doubtlessly, the resemblance was striking – held out her hand that Harry shook after a little blush. Manners, and such.

“Yeah, hi. I’m Harry … as you said.” He cringed a little. “And you must be Lottie, right?”

The girl a few years younger the Louis, smirked, “Pretty and smart, I see.”

Dumbfounded, Harry looked at the younger teenager, who simply chuckled and walked a bit quicker so she could assist Liam with the twins. Looking over at Louis, Harry found that he rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Lotts.” The girl turned around and saluted them.

Harry chuckled while Louis shook his head, “She’s a menace sometimes.”

“Oh, come on! She made pasta for you two weeks ago”, Harry replied with a grin.

Louis smirked, “That’s why I said sometimes.” The two boys chuckled. While Harry looked back towards an Irishman who struggled with his air mattress, Louis continued: “Speaking of pasta: Why are you carrying two portable ice boxes?”

Harry snorted, “You are familiar with my dear aunt, are you not? She thought that she had to feed us all for about a week.”

Louis smiled over at Harry, “You never know what can happen, so better be prepared, huh?”

“Exactly”, Harry confirmed and chuckled.

After a few moments of silence, Louis said: “I’d offer to carry one for you but …” He held the swim tire and another bag up in silent explanation.

The curly-headed teenager only shrugged, “Don’t worry, they’re not too heavy. Also, that’s why I’m wearing the leg brace. Just in case …”

Louis nodded, “Any weird, kinky therapy session lately?”

“What is kinky?” Niall shouted from behind them.

Harry rolled his eyes, “ _That_ he heard of course …”

It was the start of a great day. Once Harry saw the lake, he knew that he was in love. That small lake in the middle of nowhere had something so magical that Harry had to stop for a moment and take a deep breath. The lake was small and surrounded by a forest. Niall told him that there wasn’t a specific place where you could go to swim – like a sandy strip of shore or something – but you had to find your own spot. Harry smiled. He liked that.

Once they had found “their” spot, a lovely, tiny patch of grass, not too far from the shore, providing, both, sun and shade, and spacious enough for all of them, they started to systematically unpack their bags. “Seriously, this looks like we’re going camping for a week and not swimming for an afternoon …” Liam said.

Sitting down on his towel, Harry freed his leg of the brace before he pulled his shirt over his head. Gasps erupted and, once he could see properly again, Harry saw Liam, Louis, Lottie, Phoebe and Daisy looking at his torso. Niall sat next to Harry on his towel, frowning.

“Harry, you have a butterfly on your belly”, Phoebe supplied helpfully and Harry chuckled self-consciously. He had almost forgotten it was there.

“Oh, that. Yes.” He ran his hand over the tattoo on his abdomen.

“When did you get it?” Liam asked with wide eyes.

“Uh … just before I moved here. About nine or ten months ago?”

Louis looked pointedly at Harry. Being familiar with the reasons why Harry had moved, the footballer probably guessed the reason for the tattoo: Harry’s mother had paid for it, because she wanted to give Harry something that reminded him of the fact that even though things looked bleak, something beautiful could result from them. So Harry had chosen a butterfly tattoo. Transformation into your true self and such. And Harry’s mum, being as awesome as she was, had agreed … and held Harry’s hand at the tattoo parlour while he had almost passed out from the pain. Surely, Louis didn’t know those exact details, but somehow Harry knew by the way the other teenager looked at him that he got the gist of it.

“Why are you being so calm? Have you seen his tattoo?” Liam asked Niall, who only shrugged.

“Seen it a couple a times, but yeah, it’s nice …” Harry knew that the blonde didn’t care about tattoos at all. Liam and Lottie each raised an eyebrow at Niall and Harry suddenly understood how the two of them could easily be mistaken for a couple. He grinned at Louis, who smirked back before he got rid of his own shirt. Harry’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

Thankfully, there was a very cute distraction tapping his arm. “Can I touch it?” Phoebe said and grinned broadly at Harry, exposing her missing front tooth. “Please?”

“Sure”, Harry said and removed his hand that still lingered somewhere near his abdomen. As the small Tomlinson traced his butterfly with her fingers, “Oohh”-ing along the way, Liam started questioning Harry about how he had gotten it, revealing that he had been thinking about getting one himself for ages. “But I chickened out every time …” the footballer confessed and Harry told him that sadly, he could not comfort him about the pain. “It hurts like hell man, not gonna lie …”

After staying in the sun for a bit, all of them decided to go in. Climbing down the big roots of the maple tree they decided to settle under to get to the lake took Harry a bit longer due to his knee. Taking his time, he looked at Phoebe and Daisy who were already in the water, fighting over who got to be inside the swim tire. Once at the shore, he waved at Niall, who was already belly-deep in the water. Liam was racing Lottie to the raft in the middle of the lake and Louis tried to somehow get both twins inside the colourful swim aid. Harry carefully walked into the lake, shuddering at the change of temperature. While tying his long hair up in a bun, he almost slipped on one of the bigger rocks on his way in and barely caught himself last second. Taking a deep breath, assuring himself that nothing happened to his knee, he saw Louis sprint over to him.

“Alright?” the footballer asked.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, just … clumsy.” He shrugged.

“Okay, come on. I’ll make sure you get in safe …” Louis said and laid an arm around Harry’s waist. The curly-headed boy shuddered again. At Louis’ questioning look, he simply told him that he always got cold quicker than the average person, even in summer. Louis smiled at him and Harry thanked the heavens that he thought about a white lie that quickly.

Once they’ve reached the twins, Harry chased both of them around the swim tire, the girls squealing and Louis laughing. Looking at the other teenager had Harry’s belly in flip flops. Louis was beautiful when he smiled.

While Liam and Niall lay down on the raft, Lottie swam over to them to look after the twins for a bit, so Louis and Harry too could swim out to the other two footballers. Niall helped Harry onto the wooden surface, slapping him on the belly playfully: “Caused quite the ruckus with your butterfly there Hazza.”

“It really looks great, Harry”, Liam repeated himself and Harry smiled at the other teenager.

“Thanks.” Harry smiled. “I love the lake. Thanks for showing it to me guys”, the curly headed teenager said after a little while of silence. He looked around and saw that there were a few, but not too many people around. It really was peaceful. “I think I have to come back in autumn with my camera. It must look breath-taking.”

Liam chuckled, “Well, hopefully it won’t take us ‘till autumn to come back …” Harry smiled.

“You take pictures?” Louis asked and shielded his eyes from the sun when he looked at Harry.

While Harry only shrugged, Niall whistled: “Don’t be fooled Louis, he does take pictures. A lot of them. With a proper camera and everything. Just not around school because …” The Irishman trailed off and bit his lip. Harry had never taken his precious camera to school because he was afraid that it would get smashed or something like that. So far, he had only taken it on trips with his aunt or had taken pictures in Aunt Tilda’s garden. And, of course, back in London.

Now it was Niall, who shrugged for lack of anything to say: “But he takes a lot of pictures. And they’re good.” Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head and Liam and Louis. However, Niall continued: “I mean, I don’t know anything about photography, but I think they’re pretty cool.”

“Thanks, love”, Harry teased and fluttered his eyelashes and Niall.

“Anytime, pumpkin” Niall winked at Harry.

Harry laughed and lay down on the raft. This was really, really nice. In fact, it was almost painfully fitting that he had revealed his butterfly to his new … group of people today. About a year back, he had thought that his life was going down the drain. The whole thing with Zayn, he had to switch schools, he had to move – from London to the English countryside – and therefore, his dream of becoming an artist was sinking fast. It meant a new school where he would doubtlessly stand out, new people and an uncertain future. And he had been miserable. Today, lying on the raft in the middle of a breathtakingly beautiful lake, he thought that despite _The Incident_ in the parking spot about two and a half months back, everything had worked out quite well. None of his “London friends” would have gone on a trip to a lake with him like the three guys who lay on the small raft with him now. He smiled to himself.

Suddenly, he felt Louis lie down next to him and, in the process, their lower arms touched. Heartrate speeding up, Harry almost wanted to snatch his arm back, but as he didn’t feel Louis moving, he didn’t do anything either. After about five minutes, Harry even managed to breathe normally again. Maybe the chirping birds helped a bit too.

Once the teenage boys returned to the shore – Louis not indicating _anything_ about the touching that had freaked Harry out quite a bit in a way that he did not care to classify – they started to systematically eat their way through Aunt Tilda’s ice boxes. It was “like a treasure hunt of the food-kind”, quote Niall. And Harry had to admit that he was not wrong. He vowed to himself to check the pantry once he got back home again because he was quite sure that he would find it half-empty. He needed to thank his aunt.

After their more than extravagant lunch, the twins and Niall practically passed out, Lottie put her earplugs in and listened to music and Liam started reading something on his phone. “Football results again?” Harry teased and the other teenager only rolled his eyes. He did not, in fact, correct Harry though.

Harry looked over at Louis, who smiled quietly at him. “This is nice …” the shorter teenager said.

Harry nodded, “Totally. I’m so glad you could manage to come as well. And your sisters clearly love it.”

Louis chuckled, “Yeah, they were super excited this morning. Daisy almost forgot to put on her bathing suit …”

That sent Harry into a laughing fit and Louis just chuckled along. “They’re super-cute”, the curly-headed teenager confirmed.

“They’re now”, Louis winked, “But you have seen the tantrum Dais has thrown in the supermarket. In situations like that, they’re not so cute. Thanks again for your help, by the way …” Louis said and quickly squeezed Harry’s wrist. The addressed teenager grinned, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

“And also for …” Louis bit his lip and started to pluck at some grass next to his towel, “… not mentioning … you know.”

Harry did know. He knew how hard it must be for Louis to calculate each and everything so that they would have enough money until the end of the month. It had to be so exhausting …

Louis continued, “Liam knows, of course, but no one else. Well, you do now …”

Harry briefly deliberated if he should lay his hands on top of Louis’ that was still sitting in the grass and figured he could go for it. Considering the other teenager had just squeezed his wrist and everything. “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.” Harry smiled and Louis quickly squeezed Harry’s hand in silent thank you before both boys let go again.

“And for what it’s worth …” Harry continued, “I think it’s amazing how you manage to keep your family afloat.”

Louis blushed and looked down onto the patch of grass again. “It’s not me alone. Lottie helps a lot too. But I also want her to be a teenager, you know?” Harry nodded. “And I think that, if I can’t … I don’t know, pay for fancy clothes or she can’t go out every weekend, the least I can do is give her some time to herself, right?”

Harry plucked a strand of hair that had freed itself from his bun back behind his ear. “But you’re a teenager too Louis. You also should be getting time off now and then …” The other boy only shrugged. “If I can ever help you with anything, do tell me. Okay? I mean it.”

Louis looked up at Harry, smiling. “I know. And I will.”

Harry looked pleased, “Good.”


	10. Chapter 10

As Louis jogged up the driveway to Aunt Tilda’s house, meeting Harry plucking a few strawberries, the curly-headed teenager sighed. “So much for my offer of me helping you out. Thanks for doing this, Louis.”

The footballer stole a big, red strawberry from Harry’s basket and winked. “Hey, this is like free time for me anyways. You can pay me back in strawberries.”

Harry chuckled, “Great. Since this is the second basket that I’ve been plucking today, I’m sure we can work something out.”

Both teenagers went inside, Harry taking the basket up to his room with him. It was about eight in the evening of their shared day at the lake. When they had made their way back to their respective cars in the late afternoon, the four guys had discussed their upcoming maths test. While Lottie had rolled her eyes at them to demonstrate how boring they were, Harry had freaked out just a little bit. He had tried his best to study, but somehow the whole subject of maths was a mystery to him. And had always been. This is why he had never considered to become an architect. Voicing his outright fear of the upcoming test, Louis had offered to go through a few of the mock-examples their teacher had given them – and Harry had wholeheartedly agreed. Right now, he was just happy that the strawberries were ripe rather early that year since Louis appeared to like them quite a bit.

“Your aunt not here this evening?” Louis asked once they went into Harry’s room and settled at his desk.

“She went to visit a friend of hers … Frances? From the TeaRex?” Harry explained.

Louis nodded, “Right. … Okay, so maths.” Harry groaned which had Louis chuckle. “Did you have a look at the mock-test Mrs. Thompson has given us?”

Harry nodded, looking through the mess of papers on his desk. “Yeah. And … I have tried, okay? But what I got as results just cannot be right …”

Louis nodded, “Okay. Just let me look through your things. It’s great that you tried it so I can see … Oh, okay. Yeah, I think I know where the problem in the first one is.”

Harry looked full of hope to his fellow student. “Really?”

The footballer nodded, “Yeah, I think so. So, tell me how you went about to solve this …”

This was the start to a full three hours on Louis maths tutoring. Even though the footballer insisted that he wasn’t that great either, Harry begged to differ. Once Louis explained where he had gone wrong in solving the problem, he actually got it – and the next equation they worked through went way better thanks to Louis. So a few minutes after eleven at night, Harry sighed happily: “Louis, you are a genius. I won’t say that I’ll ace the test, but at least I have a clue about how to tackle those question. Thank you!” He slung an arm around Louis’ waist and squeezed the chuckling other boy tightly before letting go again.

“No problem. And remember: Even though the result might not be the right one …”

“… it’s how you get there”, he completed the sentence Louis had repeated time and time again during their tutoring. “I know. Thank you, thank you so much! Here, take some strawberries …”

Louis laughed, “As if I didn’t eat enough already.”

Harry had taken one from the basket for himself, “Doesn’t matter, keep eating.” He grinned, exposing his teeth with specks of strawberries. Louis got a laughing fit. “Wow, it’s quite late …” Harry said after he had a look at his phone.

The footballer nodded, “Yeah … Wondering where your aunt is …”

Harry shrugged, “Oh, sometimes she stays out. I mean, not in an irresponsible way or something, but she needs to enjoy herself too from time to time. Also, I’m old enough to manage for a night without her.” Harry winked.

Louis chuckled, taking another strawberry. “Today was fun.” Harry nodded along enthusiastically. “More fun than I had in a while.”

“We should do it again soon …” Harry suggested and Louis wholeheartedly agreed. “Maybe when the game is over …”

Right, Harry reminded himself, the big football game was next week. Next week! Damn, the semester was drawing to an end quite soon. “Maybe I’ll bring my camera the next time.”

“Speaking of your camera”, Louis said after swallowing the last piece of the strawberry he was currently eating, “Can I see some of your pictures?” Harry blushed immediately. “Come on!” Louis encouraged him, “I wanna see some of the pics Niall was raving about …Please?” Harry couldn’t help himself, he sounded like Phoebe when she had asked today about touching his tattoo.

“Well, one is right there …” Harry said pointed to the picture over his bed. It was a black and white photograph of a pigeon, sitting on the pavement. It got reflected in a puddle of rain next to its feet. In the background, you could see the Tower Bridge.

“You took this?!” Louis exclaimed and Harry nodded. “No way!” And with that, Louis walked over to the bed and inspected the frame. “Harry, this is amazing. I thought that you had bought it somewhere or something …”

Harry smiled quietly. “I won a competition at my old school with this. That’s why I have it all printed out and framed and stuff …”

Louis tore his gaze away from the picture and looked at Harry. “This is seriously good, Harry. Wow, I had no idea!”

“Thanks.” Harry smiled insecurely and blushed a little.

“Okay, now you’ve got me. I wanna see more.” Louis said, plopping down on the bed.

Harry raised his eyebrows: “Seriously?” After Louis nodded enthusiastically, Harry got his laptop and sat down next to the footballer on the bed. “If you get bored, do tell me …” the curly-headed boy warned but saw Louis settle down comfortably.

After about another hour of looking through (some of) Harry’s pictures, Louis shook his head: “Harry, these are amazing. I mean, I am with Niall there, I don’t know shit about photography. But those pictures just look so good …”

Harry blushed. He quite liked his pictures too, but to hear it from somebody else – from Louis, no less – did feel really good. “If you say so …”

The footballer whistled, “Come on, you have to see how great this is. Take …” he pointed towards the laptop, “… this flower. It a lily, right?” Harry nodded, and was vaguely aware the Louis’ hand plopped down quite close to his upper leg where the two of them were nestled against each other on Harry’s bed. They had gotten quite cosy (again) during the past hour. “I would never have the idea of taking a detailed shot like this. Like, I would just take a picture of the flower as a whole, but this … Seriously, it’s brilliant.”

“I don’t know about brilliant …” Harry said quietly.

Suddenly, Louis laid his hand on top of Harry’s on the touchpad of the laptop, “But I do.”

Heartrate spiking for the second time that day, Harry’s eyes rested firmly on Louis’ hand on top of his. Even if the touch on the raft earlier today might have been a coincidence, this clearly wasn’t. The curly-headed teenager gulped. “Louis …?” he whispered. And really, he should be passing out with a heartrate like that. Maybe he was hallucinating after all.

Since no answer came but Louis’ hand remained firmly on his, Harry asked: “Louis, what are you doing?”

Harry finally dared to look over to the other teenager, who had his eyes on Harry’s face while biting his lip: “I don’t know.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned his hand around so that his fingers could entwine with Louis’. The footballer let out a shaky breath. Slamming the laptop shut with his free hand and pushing it to the side, Harry finally turned towards the other boy. “This is not a joke, is it?” Harry whispered.

Louis shook his head firmly. “No … Here …”

Before Harry knew what was going on, his hand was plastered against Louis’ chest so the curly-headed teenager could feel Louis’ own racing heart. “Oh my God …” Harry whispered.

“Yeah … Embarrassing, huh?” Louis said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Harry shook his head and now it was him, pressing the footballer’s hand against his apricot T-shirt. Louis’ eyes widened and Harry’s lips curled with a grin. “Wow” Louis whispered.

“Since when …?” Harry asked still not sure what the hell was going on.

Louis blushed, “Since when what? Since when I knew that I liked you?”

Harry, who had not known what exactly he wanted to hear from Louis, only nodded. Louis blushed even more, “You’re not gonna believe this … God, this will sound cheesy as hell, but … Since I saw you, walking into biology on your very first day.”

Harry’s jaw dropped: “What?”

The deepening blush on Louis’ face indicated that he was indeed telling the truth. “God, this is so embarrassing … But yeah, I remember you, walking into that classroom, with that shirt full of ice cream cones and I thought: Holy shit! How does this guy wear that with so much confidence? And then, sitting through the boring lecture on the start of the school year, I looked at you and realised how … how beautiful you were.”

It was like a punch to Harry’s gut. Internally, he screamed _WHAT?!_ on full volume. “Louis, I … I honestly don’t know what to say …” He was aware that their hands still lay joined on Harry’s knee.

“Of course, yeah …” Louis said, retreating.

Harry though strengthened his grip on Louis hand. “No, you don’t understand Louis. I … I like you as well.” The disbelieving look in the footballer’s eyes would have been comical, had the situation been a different one. “I just … I don’t know what to say.” Harry repeated unintelligibly. “Like … about three months ago, you were with the bullies. I know why and, as I have said, I understand why you felt like you had to do it …”

“No, you don’t understand Harry …” Louis said, running both of his hands over his face. This meant disconnecting his hand from Harry’s which truly was a shame; at least in Harry’s books.

“This is all so confusing …” Louis said and scratched his head. “I … Okay. At sixteen, I had my first girlfriend.” Harry nodded, so Louis continued. “And all of my teammates were raving on about how great having a girlfriend was and how awesome the sex was, what they did with their girlfriends and so on. Well, I didn’t feel that way … at all. So, when I was sleeping with my girlfriend I started thinking about … What the other guys were talking about. And I realised that it was thinking about the other guys’ … any other guys, really … God, that sounds creepy. Anyway, that was what turned me on so much. So about two months in, I broke up with my girlfriend. I couldn’t keep doing this to her. And … obviously, I didn’t do anything about … about liking guys.”

“With the company on the team, who could blame you?” Harry said.

“I tried to tell myself that it was just a phase and that I would fall in love with a girl if only the right one turned up.” Harry smiled and nodded. “But … Then you came along. And … I witnessed first-hand how you were dealing with the insults and how proud you were and I thought … I asked myself _How does he do it?_ Just like with that hilarious shirt on the first day: _How does he do it? How can he stand this?_ And I was just too much of a coward to stand up for you … or for myself.”

Harry bit his lip and scooted closer to Louis, laying an arm around his shoulder, “You had so much on your mind back then … How could you stand up to them?”

“So, you’re not … mad? Or disappointed?” Louis asked in disbelieve.

Harry smiled, “No. How could I? Louis, I cannot imagine what you were going through …”

Harry was rewarded with a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“Welcome”, Harry whispered, arms still lying around Louis’ shoulder. “So, you like guys then?” he asked.

The footballer chuckled, “Yeah, I think so …”

“Hm …” Harry nodded, “And from what I gathered you don’t find me absolutely despicable and ugly.”

Louis chuckled. “No, not exactly.”

The curly-headed teenager nodded again. He thought, that he would ignore his beating heart and take the risk yet again. Albeit with a little change: “Alright. So, to confirm your theory about being into guys: Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Louis looked dumbfounded at Harry, who waved his head dismissively. “You know, that went wrong once, I just want to make sure.”

Louis chuckled, “It … uhm, it would be okay, yes.”

“Alright then …” Harry grinned and slowly leaned in – trying to be way more confident than he felt at the time. He couldn’t quite believe that this was actually happening. He heard Louis’ breath stutter and realised that the other teenager too came closer. So with a last look into those blue, blue eyes Harry closed the gap between their lips. Once their lips met, Harry felt like he froze right on the spot and he literally felt Louis draw back a little. So, nothing to write love sonnets about. Louis chuckled quietly and Harry felt the puffs of hot breath against his face. Their heads stayed close together though.

“Sorry”, Louis whispered and Harry slowly shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. Try again?”

“Yeah.”

Harry felt that confirmation more than he heard it. Still, he leaned in again, touching his lips carefully to Louis’. This time, the other teenager did not flinch. Instead, he moved his lips carefully against Harry’s. Encouraged by the footballer’s actions, he gently took Louis’ bottom lip between his own and sucked gently. The shaky breath Louis released sent shivers down Harry’s spine. After kissing for quite a bit, both teenager’s had to stop to catch some air. Leaning their foreheads against each other’s, both boys caught their breath.

“So …” Harry whispered.

“So?” Louis asked at an equal volume, as if both teenagers were afraid to burst the bubble they both found themselves in.

Harry smiled, “So, what about that theory about you liking boys?”

Again, Louis chuckled and hot puffs of air met Harry’s face. “Yeah, very likely … that.”

Now Harry laughed as well and cupped Louis’ cheek. Looking up, the curly-headed teenager saw blue eyes staring at him and he smiled. “Okay. Good.”

Louis chuckled, “Good?”

Harry grinned at him, “Yeah. Good. Glad that I didn’t mess it up … Again.”

Louis took a deep breath and Harry noticed that the footballer’s hands that were lying on his thighs were shaking. So the curly-headed boy put his arm around Louis’ shoulder again and pulled the other student against him. Surprisingly, Louis let it happen without resistance and practically melted against Harry’s side. Smiling, Harry ran a hand through Louis hair. After some time, where both had been completely silent, Harry said: “It’s okay, you know? Don’t worry, everything’s okay.”

“I … I am just …” Harry felt that Louis shook his head. “I don’t know what I am …”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been there. And trust me: There is no one who you have to justify your actions to. Take as long as you need …” The curly-headed student ran his hand over Louis’ shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

Suddenly, Louis turned his head and claimed Harry’s lips in yet another kiss. Encouraged by Louis taking the initiative this time, Harry drew Louis’ face closer to his with both of his hands. The footballer sighed and moved his body so that their chests were flush against each other. Harry felt Louis’ heart racing and he was sure that the footballer could feel his as well. In that moment, everything felt right to Harry. This was what he had always been looking for.

Emboldened by Louis’ smell, Harry let his tongue touch the other teenager’s lower lip. The footballer opened his lips to welcome Harry. The second their tongues met, Louis moaned loudly which went straight to the curly-headed boys’ groin. Harry pulled Louis tighter to himself by his waist while butterflies were doing somersaults in his belly. Feeling that Louis fisted his hands in Harry’s hair, Harry let out a low groan as well.

Once they broke apart, Louis let his head drop onto Harry’s shoulder. “I can feel you breathing …”

The curly-headed teenager laughed, “Yeah. I can feel you breathing too. It’s nice.”

“Yeah”, Louis sighed and then, in one swift movement, straightened his upper body and looked at Harry. “I uh … I think I should go now. It’s really late and … uh … I have to make breakfast for the twins tomorrow.”

Harry smiled, “Well then, you better get home big brother …”

Louis shrugged, “I really have to go, it’s not …” He blushed and looked down onto the sheets beneath them.

Harry nodded, “Don’t worry, I know.” The curly-headed teenager took Louis’ hand in his. “And thanks for coming by.”

“Anytime”, Louis smiled and Harry grinned back.

Louis got up from the bed and gathered his things while Harry just kept sitting on his bed, wondering what on earth had just happened. Once done with stuffing his backpack, Louis turned back towards Harry. “Good night Harry.”

“Bye Louis”, Harry grinned, “I see you on Monday.”

“Yeah”, Louis said, waved and went towards the door. Almost there, he turned around, took the few steps towards the bed and kissed a very surprised Harry yet again. “Bye”, the footballer whispered against the other teenager’s lips and hurried out the door to Harry’s room.

Paralysed, Harry sat on the bed, staring after Louis. After a few moments where he was able to gather his thoughts, he sighed and flopped back onto the bed. Monday would be interesting.


	11. Chapter 11

After sleeping in quite a bit on Sunday, Harry emerged from his room around noon, meeting his aunt in the open kitchen. “Morning willow”, Aunt Tilda greeted him while shoving a mug with daisies towards Harry. The teenager yawned and poured himself some tea from the kettle. “Morning.” Plopping down at the large wooden table Harry took his time to properly wake up – having sips of heavenly tea in between.

Being considerate as she was, his aunt waited until Harry had his eyes open to a reasonable degree before she asked: “Where did you put the strawberries I asked you to pick yesterday?”

The curly-haired boy gulped. “I put one basket in the fridge …”

“And what did you do with the rest? There was more than that, surely …” Aunt Tilda inquired.

Harry blushed, “I uhm … We ate them.” The teenager saw his aunt frown. “Did you have something in mind with them?” Harry asked, hoping that he did not put an end to his aunts’ plans about making strawberry jam or whatever.

Tilda waved at him dismissively, “No, nothing specific, don’t worry, Harry. Who’s _we_ though?”

The teenager blushed even deeper. Just thinking about him and Louis kissing sent pleasurable shivers down his spine … And how Louis had kissed him again just to say goodbye. Harry was sure that his face was as red as the strawberries in question by then.

Of course, his aunt noticed. “Alright, Harold.” Harry did not like where this was going. Aunt Tilda put her book down, looking intently at Harry. “Who is we?”

“Uhm … Louis came over when you were already at Frances’. He tutored me in maths … for the test next week, you know.” The teenager hoped that his aunt would leave it at that, but no such luck.

“Alright.” Aunt Tilda looked at him questioningly, leaning back in her chair while doing so. “Very responsible. Why are you blushing like that?”

Harry shrugged, “Because we ate all the strawberries …?” He cringed at how this sounded as a question even to his own ears.

“Harold …” Aunt Tilda didn’t say anything more. The sad thing was, she didn’t have to. Harry crumbled right under her stare.

“Alright, alright. But you have to promise me that you won’t say anything …” Harry said, afraid to break the mug in his hands by how desperately he clung to it.

Harry’s aunt adjusted her glasses, “As long as it’s nothing illegal, my lips will remained sealed.”

The teenager chuckled, “It’s not. Really.” He sighed heavily, “Okay. So … Louis wanted to see some of my pictures …”

“And I hope you finally got over your ridiculous self-consciousness and showed them to him. They’re really good Harry …” Aunt Tilda interrupted his speech. Harry glared at her. “Sorry, go on …”

“Thank you. It’s you who wants to know what happened after all …” Harry looked pointedly at his mother’s sister, who raised her hands in mock-surrender without saying a word.

“Right.” He breathed in deeply. “So one moment we were looking at my pictures and Louis told me how much he liked them …” His aunt smiled at him, “… and the next we were … uhm … kissing.”

Afraid of his aunt’s reaction, Harry looked up from the remnants in his mug and found the red-haired woman grinning. “Why … Why are you smiling like that?!” he asked with a frown on his face.

“Never mind that right now … You kissed?” Harry nodded, blushing, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Considering that your dimples are showing I guess it was good?”

The teenager nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah …”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Harry love, but this was your fist kiss with another boy, wasn’t it?”

Again, Harry nodded. “Yep. I refuse to count the Zayn disaster. Our lips weren’t even touching properly.”

After a completely unexpected squeal, Tilda jumped off her chair and a second later, wrapped her arms around Harry, prepping his neck with little kisses. Tilda cooed an “Oh willow!”

“What the …” Harry, who still wasn’t fully awake, despite his embarrassing morning, stuttered.

“I’m so happy for you!” his aunt exclaimed joyfully, “You’re glowing Harry, darling.” Finally, she seemed to calm down a bit and let go of her nephew. However, she sat down right next to Harry, smiling broadly.

“Am not …” Harry said blushing but even he knew that he was lying. The truth was that, for the first time since he had moved to Lower Tadford, he had woken up with a smile on his face.

“Do not lie in a situation like this, Harry. I’m over the moon for you …” Harry knew that Tilda really was and she was at least as excited about this as Harry – if not more. During the conversations they had about Harry’s sexual orientation, she had always underlined how much she wished for a nice partner for her nephew – boy, girl or something inbetween. Then again, the teenager had not seen himself finding love in Lower Tadford. Harry mentally slapped himself. He was getting ahead of himself again. What had happened the night before were a few kisses, not love. He didn’t even know what tomorrow would bring.

“Don’t be …” Aunt Tilda frowned, “… I mean, not yet. We just kissed. This doesn’t mean anything.” Harry put last night’s events in perspective.

His aunt patted Harry’s hand, “Don’t be too pessimistic, love.”

The teenager wrung his hands, “I am trying. And yesterday …” Harry smiled at the memory, “I won’t lie, Louis was so … sweet.” Aunt Tilda smiled at how her nephew blushed yet again, “And he told me stuff … he was really opening up to me. But … Even though I understand why he did what he has done the previous months and I have forgiven him – I really have – I just can’t ignore that he ran with the homophobic bullies. Honestly, I get it. It was a hard time for him and the last thing he needed would have been a sensational coming-out. But … What about school? What about town? Christ, what about football? I don’t want to pressure him to come out earlier than he is ready for but … what if he never is? I am not going to be a dirty little secret …” Harry, who just realised that he had delivered quite a speech, threw his hand against his forehead. “I am rambling now, am I not?”

He got a warm smile from his aunt, “Yes, you are. But it is only natural, Harry. After the whole Zayn-thing, who could blame you? And I do see your point.”

“You do?” Harry whispered and his aunt nodded.

“Of course I do. So first of all: Let me tell you how proud I am of you that you refuse to be kept as someone’s secret. You are worth so much more than that and I’m glad you realise that.” Harry smiled lopsidedly, as his aunt continued, “And yes, it might be true that Louis needs a bit of time to … come to terms with who he is. And it speaks very highly of you that you don’t expect him to just walk up to you tomorrow, sweep you up in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of you in front of the entire school.”

Harry laughed out loudly at the mental image: “Yeah, no, that might be a bit too much.”

“Exactly”, his mother’s sister confirmed, “But you forget one very important detail.”

“Oh do I now?” the teenager asked teasingly.

Aunt Tilda nodded, “Yes, you do. It’s true that Louis, all the Tomlinsons, for that matter, had and still have a lot to deal with. And a coming out is indeed a bit much on top of everything else. But now, Harry, _now_ Louis has you.”

It was like a slap right to his face. “What … I …”, Harry stuttered and, under the quite unsettlingly calm smile of Aunt Tilda, settled on, “Well, now you do sound quite a bit cheesy, you do realise that, right?”

The red-headed woman chuckled, “Let me try to explain my point, Harry. Do you remember when you and your Mum always came to visit to spend a week or so over the summer?” The teenager nodded. “Right. There was one summer, I think you were eight or maybe nine at the time, when this huge, white lily bloomed in my garden?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, the one that came from nowhere because you hadn’t planted it?”

Aunt Tilda smiled, “The very one. The one that has expanded over the whole flower bed by now. Anyways, back to my point: Every day, you walked down first thing in the morning to stare for quite a few minutes at it. You circled it, staring with wide, wondering eyes at the flower and sometimes, really carefully, touched its petals. When I asked you why you were so cautious around it, you said that you didn’t want to hurt it because it was so beautiful.” Yet again, Harry blushed. This was clearly not his morning. “You looked after it and always went down with an extra watering can to make sure the lily had enough water. And you refused to let anyone else water the flower because they might get too much or too little water into the ground.”

Mortified, Harry let his head drop to the table, “You were saying that there was a point to make in all this embarrassment …”

Blinking up at his aunt, Harry saw the woman smiling warmly at him. “The way you have been looking at the flower is exactly how Louis has been looking at you for the past few weeks.”

Harry sat up, completely in shock: “What?!”

“Of course, you haven’t seen it, but I have. And let me tell you Harry, this boy is not going to drop you like a hot potato. So all I am saying is that you should give him a bit of time. He will come around.”

“If you say so …” Harry answered vaguely. He still wasn’t convinced about this comparison of him to a lily, but then again, this aunt rarely reasoned like relatives of other people.

“I know so …” she smiled triumphantly at Harry. “So now, finish your tea, there is quite some packaging that has to be done for the farmer’s market tomorrow. And you are always much more creative than I am …”

“So not true …” Harry argued before he drowned the remnants of his tea.


	12. Chapter 12

By Monday morning, Harry was pretty tense. Even Niall, fuelled by yet another Skype-session with Tash, noticed. But Harry only waved him off, telling him that he hadn’t slept well. Thankfully, the blonde Irishman was too excited to notice the lie.

Entering biology, Harry immediately scanned the room for Louis. Before the attack had happened, he was usually sitting in the back with Charlie and Lee and the other bullies. After the incident, he had spotted Louis sitting more often than not with Liam who, today, sat at a table of his own. No Louis. Harry’s heart dropped. Still, he told himself that he was probably overreacting and needed to calm down. Anybody could be a few minutes late.

About ten minutes into the lesson, Louis crashed through the door, completely out of breath, apologizing to Mr. Cooper and plopping down next to Liam. Harry heard the two guys whispering a bit but didn’t dare to turn around just yet. The curly-headed teenager lasted about eight minutes until he craned his neck to catch a glimpse at the footballer, but only saw him copying Liam’s notes furiously. Suddenly, Harry felt a slap on his lower arm. “Mate, what’s going on with you today?” Niall asked. Harry just shrugged and looked pointedly at Mr. Cooper without listening to a word their teacher said.

Up next was, of course, English with Mr. Branagh.

Right when Niall and Harry entered the classroom, they saw the makeshift sign that told them to “Sit with your team partner”. Niall frowned at said sign: “For a man teaching English, I find it weird that he has written it on a sign … Isn’t he supposed to … like talking and all that?” the Irishman asked before he slapped Harry on the back and found Aidan, who was already sitting at his usual desk. Harry made his way over to an empty one in the front row, waiting for Louis to arrive.

This was torture. Harry picked at his fingernails, wrung his hands, drummed his pencil on the table top and jumped at the buzzing of his phone due to a message from Niall: _Seriously mate! After English, you’re telling me what’s wrong with you today …_ Harry turned around to look at his friend and shrugged yet again. What else was he supposed to do?

Suddenly, someone dropped onto the empty seat next to Harry and judging by the fresh smell of lemon, the curly-headed teenager knew exactly who it was. “Hey …” Harry said awkwardly and Louis grinned back at him weakly: “Hi.”

Harry’s pulse spiked. Why were they so awkward around each other now? The teenager was desperately looking for something to say. Finally, he settled on “Everything alright?” and wanted to facepalm right after the words had left his mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Uh just …” Harry started and waved his hands, “you were late. I hope there’s nothing serious going on?”

Louis chuckled artificially, “Oh no. Everything’s fine. Dais spilled her cocoa all over her dress this morning so we had to change and … yeah, I was running late.”

“Ah. Okay.”

Louis gave Harry another one of his not-real smiles and then, the lesson commenced. Harry was actually happy about that so he could at least pretend to focus on Mr. Branagh and not think about what he should say to Louis. It was unnerving, to say the least.

The reason for the “team arrangements” this Monday were the graded assignments they got back. Harry heard Louis draw in a sharp breath. Once their English teacher stood in front of their desk and handed over their paper with a “Well done …” he added “The two of you.” And then he winked. Actually winked. Harry almost dropped the paper. Looking over at Louis, he saw complete and utter confusion written over the footballer’s face. Once Harry turned the small stack of papers over, he saw a big, red A+ written on the front page. Smiling, he turned to face Louis, who still looked at the paper in Harry’s hands in utter disbelieve. Then, the footballer looked up at the other student and, for the first time that day, gave him a blinding grin. One of those that Harry loved so much. So he mirrored the motion.

“Alright class: You have the rest of the lesson to look through my notes on your paper, ask questions and bore me with your complaints about unfair grading. You may commence”, Mr. Branagh’s voice boomed through the classroom. Eager to know what their teacher thought of their paper, Harry opened their essay. Louis drew his chair closer to Harry’s. To everyone else in the class – if anyone was paying attention in the first place – it seemed as if Louis just wanted to see better. Harry, however, felt the footballers leg pressing firmly against his, which made him smile even broader than before.

“Okay?” Louis breathed quietly, and Harry turned so Louis could see his smile. “More than.”

Monday, of course, was the day of football practise as well.

So Harry found himself sitting in the bleachers yet again, watching the team practise their technique for the big game on Friday. Now that Harry had gotten continuous explanations from Niall, Liam and Louis alike, he supposed he started to understand the game better – and therefore, sitting there and supporting his friends wasn’t as boring as it had been just a few weeks ago. The curly headed teenager even went as far as admitting to himself that he we quite excited about Friday himself. Coach Corden seemed to have given up on trying to stop him from coming to the trainings by then and so, Harry welcomed the three footballers with a grin once the practise was over.

“Ready for Friday then?” Harry shouted with a smile as the three teenagers jogged over to him.

“We’ll see I guess …” Liam grinned.

Niall only shrugged, “I’m more nervous about the maths test on Thursday, if I’m honest …”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t remind me … I’m having nightmares already.”

“Oh but you were doing fine on Saturday …” Louis said once they headed towards the lockers. Only when the words had left his mouth, Louis realised what he referred to and blushed. Thankfully, neither Liam nor Niall noticed.

Harry did though and blushed himself. Still, he decided to follow through with the plan that had formed in his head during the two hours he watched the teenagers chase the football around the field: “Actually Louis, I wondered if I could ask you about an exercise I was working on yesterday … Could you have a look at it?” Harry smiled at the footballer innocently. Louis, on the other hand, blushed even deeper.

Thankfully, one could always count on Niall for a distraction: “I thought I was your go-to person in maths?”

“You suck at maths!” Liam exclaimed and, once realising what he had just said, clamped his hand over his lips: “I’m so sorry man …”

Niall threw a hand against his chest, “Payno, you wound me deeply … So, now that I know what you all think of me, I’ll go shower. Harry, Louis can take you home today …” And with that, the Irishman was off.

“Oh God, is he okay?” Liam looked like a kicked puppy.

Harry waved the footballer off, “He’s fine, don’t worry. He has just spent too much time with Coach Corden and adapted some of his dramatics.”

“I’ll go and apologise …” Liam said and hurried after the blonde.

And that left Harry and Louis standing awkwardly next to each other on the side of the football field. “Right, so uhm … I guess I’ll take you home then …” Louis stated awkwardly.

Harry just shrugged, “Only if it’s not a bother. Otherwise, I’ll tell Niall to pull his head out of his ass …”

Louis chuckled which made Harry smile. “No, it’s fine. I … I’ll just grab a quick shower, yeah?”

Harry nodded and smiled at Louis, who, a second later, turned and jogged to the locker rooms. Turning around, Harry had a stupid grin plastered to his face. His plan had worked out amazingly, if he said so himself. And that was when he saw Mr. Corden walk towards him. Great, just great!

“Harold …”

Harry inwardly sighed, “Yes, Mr. Corden?”

The coach walked towards him, yet again with an outstretched hand. Having learned from his past mistakes, the teenager took an instinctive step back as to avoid another uncomfortable touch. Surprisingly, the newly appointed football coach dropped his hand. Harry was impressed.

“I see that you have not given up coming to our trainings …” An accusing eyebrow was raised.

Harry bit his lip, “Uh … no.”

Mr. Corden nodded – surely more to himself than to Harry. “While I cannot say that I find your defiance against a member of the teaching body admirable …” Harry inwardly rolled his eyes because _really_? Still, the coach continued, “… I must say that it has something inspiring.”

“Thank you…?” Harry was highly suspicious about where this was going.

“So I have a proposal for you, Mr. Styles.” Mr. Corden looked with utmost determination at Harry but didn’t say another word. _If he’s going to ask if I’ll join the football team I might have to laugh in his face_ , Harry thought. “What, uh … what proposal, Sir?” Harry asked instead.

“As I’m sure you have gathered …” the teacher said with an extravagant flourish of his hand which made him drop the football he was holding, “… in addition to this job as a football coach, I too teach music and the dramatic arts.” The teenager nodded. “And while I picked up the gauntlet of teaching these … simple-minded young men football with as much dignity that I could muster, I have to say that my heart calls out to the theatre.”

_No shit_ , Harry thought sarcastically but nodded as if in deep understanding.

“I understand …” Mr. Corden emphasised, “that this year, taking part in the school’s drama production was out of the question for you, Harold. But next year, I expect to see you amongst our fellow thespians.”

Eyes wide, Harry looked like a deer in the headlights at the teacher. “Excuse me?”

“You need to take the stage, Harold. That is your true calling.”

“I’m not sure …” Harry started but Mr. Corden went, without uttering another word, into the changing rooms. The football he had dropped before lay long forgotten on the side of the field. Harry looked after the man with an expression of utter bewilderment. What on earth was this guy’s deal?

Thankfully, Louis already came out of the changing rooms. “Ready?” he asked. But as he had another look at Harry, the footballer raised his eyebrows in question. “Is everything alright?”

“As long as we get going immediately …” Harry muttered and he started towards the parking lot with bog steps. “I’ll explain in the car”, he shouted over his shoulder at a very confused Louis.

“He _what_?!”

Louis slapped the steering wheel while laughing out loudly.

Harry threw up his hands, “I swear to you, that man is insane. _I expect to see you amongst our fellow thespians, Harold_ ” he mimicked what Mr. Corden had said earlier.

“Hang on, why is he always calling you Harold?” Louis asked.

The curly, headed teenager only shrugged, “Damned if I know. Only Aunt Tilda calls me that sometimes, when she tries to make a point.”

“What, she doesn’t call you willow all the time?” Louis turned towards Harry in the passenger’s seat with a disgustingly sweet grin.

“I hate you”, Harry said and looked pointedly out the window while Louis continued to chuckle. “No you don’t …” He said which caused Harry to smile. _No, he didn’t._

Once they pulled up in front of Aunt Tilda’s house, Louis stopped the engine. “There isn’t really a maths problem, is there, Harold?” Louis continued their joking atmosphere that had settled in the car during their ride.

“Not you too”, the other teenager groaned but shook his head. “No. No there isn’t. But …” Harry trailed off and picked at an invisible stain on his black jeans, “But I wanted to talk to you. I’m sorry you had to drive me home to do so, though. I know you have a lot to do …”

“I don’t mind …” Louis answered lightly and when Harry looked up, he saw Louis smiling at him.

The curly headed boy licked his lips. “I just … I didn’t know how I should act today and so … I don’t know. I hope I didn’t … offend you or anything by keeping things under wraps but I didn’t know … what you wanted. So yeah …”

Louis’ smiled widened, “Keeping it under wraps was a good choice, really. So thank you.” The other teenager smiled. Truth to be told, the entire day had been torture for Harry. Should he be more open about their … _thing_? What if Louis’ wasn’t okay with that? What if Louis wasn’t okay with Harry not showing their … whatever it was openly? It had weighed on his mind quite heavily.

“Don’t get me wrong, I do not …” Now it was Louis biting his lip, “I do not want to act as if this never happened Harry, you have to know that.” Harry smiled as Louis looked almost desperately into his eyes. The curly-headed boy nodded. “But … This is not easy for me, alright?”

Again, Harry nodded. “You need some time to figure things out.”

“Yes”, Louis looked up with hope in his eyes, “Does that make any sense?”

The curly-haired boy carefully took Louis’ hand in his: “Of course it does, Louis. Trust me, I’ve been there, I know how you feel. And I don’t want to pressure you, truly. Take as much time as you need as long as …” Harry trailed off.

“As long as?” Louis asked and Harry looked up right into Louis’ ocean blue eyes.

“As long as you don’t make me your dirty little secret”, he almost whispered.

Louis squeezed his hand and uttered a quiet, “Harry …”

“No, I get it, Louis. I really understand. And I do not expect of you that you come out in two months’ time or anything. We can keep a low profile but … I have to know that you care at least a little bit about whatever this thing between us turns out to be. I can’t get disappointed like back in London again …”

Louis smiled sadly while his free hand cupped Harry’s face, “Nor should you ever be disappointed like that again. I … I really like you Harry.” Louis smiled. “And I’m sorry that I’m not … great with words or anything but you must know that this is important to me. I just have to figure things out in my own time.”

Harry huffed out a quiet laugh, “Not too bad with your words there …”

Louis kept smiling, “So, are we good?”

The curly headed teenager nodded, “Yes, we are good.”

“Okay …” Louis breathed and started to lean in. Yet again, Harry’s heartrate picked up an alarming pace. Really, this could not be healthy. As he felt Louis draw him in a bit while the footballer’s thumb caressed his cheek, Harry closed his eyes and leaned in as well. As their lips met, Louis gasped again while Harry exhaled deeply through his nose. It felt as if his whole body was tingling with excitement. Slightly moving his lips, Harry tried to deepen the kiss a bit and just hoped that Louis was fine with it – even though it was not nearing one in the morning. He shouldn’t have worried; Louis returned this kiss with as much enthusiasm as Harry had started it.

Once the two teenagers broke apart, Harry smiled: “Thanks for taking me home.”

“Anytime”, Louis smiled and Harry grabbed his backpack. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya at school.”

After the terrifying maths test on Thursday – where Harry hoped and prayed that he did fine – it was finally Friday. The day of the game. Playing football against the school’s arch nemesis (that Harry couldn’t remember the name of even if someone threatened him with murder) had the entire school giddy since eight o’clock in the morning. And Harry got it – at least kind of. It was a big day and he was excited for his friends.

Being taken to school by his aunt that day, Harry only met Louis, Liam and Niall before the first period. As Harry approached them, the Irishman was the first to notice the curly-headed boy walk towards them: “Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! HARRY! What is _THAT_?!”

Louis, who knew exactly what this was, slumped against the lockers while barking out a loud laugh. Liam looked like he didn’t know where to look which, in Harry’s books, was hilarious. “What? Just say now that you all finally get to see my infamous mint-green pants you’re not fond of them?” He gave the three footballers a shit eating grin. His pair of flairs were waist high, he wore the shirt with the ice cream scones tucked into it (as some ice cream scoops were also mint-green, thank you very much), white boots and, to round up the outfit, sunglasses with a mint-green frame on top of his head. “Worthy of today’s occasion, don’t you think?”

Louis only gave him a thumbs up, still chuckling, while Niall beamed, “Corden will die. He. Will. DIE. Harry, have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Many times dear, but it never gets old”, Harry winked and threw an arm around the Irishman’s shoulder. Walking towards the classrooms, Harry heard Liam mutter, “Well, the pants are definitely something …” to Louis, who hummed. Then, Harry heard: “I like the shirt.” The curly-headed boy couldn’t have smiled wider if he tried.

The time to the football match passed quite quickly and soon, Harry found himself walking towards the field under a lot of stares. Suffice to say, the pants did not disappoint. Looking around for a place to sit on the rapidly filling bleachers, Harry suddenly heard his name being called. Whipping around the trying to spot someone who could actually mean him, he saw Lottie waving at him. Looking closer, he even saw Daisy and Phoebe standing next to their sister, waving as well. He smiled and walked up to them. “Hi Harry”, Phoebe cheered, Daisy waved and Lottie raised a challenging eyebrow: “Someone has gotten the good stuff out for today, I see.”

“Hi girls”, Harry greeted them while sitting down between Lottie and Phoebe. The younger Tomlinson promptly took his hand. Harry smiled.

Lottie looked over at him, grinning: “So Harry, is this how you normally dress when you are watching a football game?”

“Since it’s the first one I ever attended I could not say yes with a good conscience.” Harry smirked, “But I could make it a tradition, what do you think?” Lottie started chuckling with Phoebe nodded, “Yes. You should always dress like that. You look very pretty.”

“Thanks, love”, Harry said. “But outfits like that are saved for special days like today. Are you excited to see your brother play?” The twins bounced their heads up and down while Lottie only shrugged.

“Yes, he’s very good”, Daisy said and Phoebe added, “He will be a famous football player one day.”

Harry smiled, “That would be exciting, wouldn’t it?” Thinking about it, the curly-headed teenager had mixed feelings about it though. On the one hand, he was absolutely convinced that Louis deserved the world. And since he loved playing football so much, it would be his dream job. On the other hand – and Harry knew how selfish that was – he was afraid that if Louis, by a lucky twist of fate, would be discovered as a player, their relationship would most likely not last. Stereotypes of footballers, and such. Then again, Harry’s brain helpfully supplied, he could be the role model of a player who is out. Dreaming away, the teenager got back to reality by Lottie’s “I don’t know, there is one thing or two that I think Louis likes better than football …”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, panicking just slightly.

Lottie did not answer because the whistle indicated that the game was about to start. However, the younger Tomlinson kept her smirk on for the entirety of the game.

Lower Tadford High won. And effectively so.

Louis had scored two of their four goals, Niall another one and Gary the fourth. The crowd went wild and the other team retreated in shame. They had not scored a single goal. The spirits were high and everybody celebrated the team. Harry stood on the side lines with the Tomlinson girls, waiting for Louis, Niall and Liam to make it over to them. When Coach Corden walked past Harry, he only graced him with a look full of distain and an “Unbelievable Harold.”

Lottie had raised her eyebrows: “What was that all about?”

“Long story, we have kind of a war going on …” Harry explained while the teenage girl nodded – albeit a bit irritated.

Not long after that, Louis spotted them and jogged over, hugging first his twin-sisters who were cheering loudly. Then, he moved to hug Lottie in a comically enthusiastic manner but the girl only raised her hand. “If you hug me this sweaty, I am going to puke. Nice job though, big bro.”

“Thanks, sweetheart”, Louis fluttered his eyelashes at her.

“Congrats Lou”, Harry beamed, “You were amazing.”

Louis smile could have lit up an entire city. “Thanks Harry, I’m so glad you came.” Harry did not share Lottie’s repulsion of sweaty hugs so he happily moved in when Louis stretched out his arms. Relishing in the intimate moment – no matter how many people were causing a ruckus next to them – he realised that he did not mind Louis’ sweat one bit. If anything, Harry had to admit that he liked it.

Loosening the hug, Louis said “I saw Corden walk by a few minutes ago…”

“Yep, he hates my guts now. Maybe I can get out of theatre next year?” Harry joked and Louis laughed loudly, while Daisy flung herself at her brother, who picked her up effortlessly.

When Niall and Liam were walking over as well, Harry too congratulated them on their win. Niall’s grin was even more blinding than usual. Harry knew what it meant to him that he was finally allowed to play on the team. Hugging the Irishman as well, Harry whispered “Nice goal there, Nialler!” in praise. The blonde only nodded, clearly proud of his achievement.

“Okay guys, now!” Liam announced, “We all get home, we all have a shower – Harry, you can choose for yourself if you need one – “ The curly-headed boy chuckled, “And then, you all have to come to the party at my place around nine. ‘Cause that’ll be as long as I need to set things up. You all have to come, we need to celebrate. No excuses!” The footballer pointed a finger at each of them. “Got it?”

“Got it!” Niall beamed, Louis nodded and Harry smiled. “Cool, thanks for the invite Liam.”

“Harry, with an outfit like yours, how can I refuse?” the footballer said and winked.

Harry chuckled. Suddenly he realised that as long as he had stayed with his aunt, no one had ever invited him to a party. He was getting really excited about this. “Can I bring anything?” he asked politely but Liam only waved him off: “Only yourself and good vibes. I’ve got it covered.”

“Your parents are okay with this?” Louis asked.

“They are away for the entire weekend, leaving in about two hours”, Liam said while he patted Louis’ shoulder, “and as long as no one burns the house down, they will never know.”

The four boys chuckled and agreed to meet up at Liam’s later that evening. Harry was really looking forward to this.


	13. Chapter 13

At half past eight at night, Niall and Harry knocked onto Liam’s door.  
They knew that they were early, but Harry had argued that both of them should help Liam to set up everything for the party. Harry had indeed decided to stay in his “day clothes” since they were not his usual day clothes and had only put on some deodorant and cologne. Niall had changed into tight jeans and a shirt with small exotic animals on it. When he had picked Harry up at his aunt’s, the curly-headed teenager had only raised a questioning eyebrow at the Irishman. “What?” the blonde had exclaimed, “I’ve got to compete with you somehow.” Harry had grinned and told Niall that he did, in fact, look very handsome.

It was Louis who opened the door.  
\- And Harry had to do a double take. Louis was wearing black skinny jeans, a mid-blue V-neck that brought out his eyes and black vans. Nothing too fancy and nothing too far away from his everyday outfits, but Harry had to admit that the other teenager had never looked that good. He gulped.

“Hey guys, Liam’s just getting the beer. Come in …” Louis smiled at them.

Passing the other teenager, Niall clapped Louis on the shoulder. “I’ll go find the master of the house …” the Irishman said and went off inside. Harry stood in front of Louis, blushing a little. “Hey.”

The footballer smiled, “Hey yourself.”

As Harry stepped inside the house and Louis closed the door behind him, the curly-headed boy turned on his heels. “You look good.”

Louis gave him a blinding grin. “Thanks, do you too.”

Harry quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was in the corridor and quickly moved into Louis personal space, placing a quick kiss next to the other teenager’s ear. He realised how the other boy’s breath stuttered and he smirked. “Come on, Tomlinson, show me the house.”

Liam had, Harry had to admit, a very nice house. It wasn’t as big as his aunt’s – which, honestly, was a bit out of proportion for a single woman – but it was super homey. Homey in a way that, in Harry’s opinion fitted Liam perfectly: It was something like out of a magazine called Modern Living or something. But where these pictures had always seemed beautiful but cold to Harry, Liam and his family have given the rooms a personal touch here and there. So all in all, it was magazine-pretty but, upon closer inspection, is was more a lot more personal. Just like Liam.  
Harry liked it.

Once the four guys had set up all the drinks at the table on the terrace, put out a lot of snacks and started some music, the first people started arriving already. Harry had to admit that he was just slightly nervous about the party crowd: Yes, people were not openly mean to him anymore. But there was a lot of space between not being openly homophobe and actually tolerating or even liking him. Still, Niall, Louis and Liam were there and so Harry wasn’t too worried. Apparently, his three football-friends had told the rest of the team how Harry was trying to upset Coach Corden with his outfits – especially the one he had been and still was wearing today – which they seemed to appreciate. It even led to a rather enthusiastic conversation with Gary, who turned out to be a super-nice guy. It was just that Harry didn’t have the chance to talk to him before. The footballer had a wicked sense of humour that had Harry laugh out loudly involuntarily quite a few times. Interestingly, Gary was also from London but had moved here with his mother once his father had died. What started as a rather sad conversation became a lively discussion about their favourite spots in the big city that Harry truly enjoyed. They even shared an acquaintance, as both teenage boys found out: Roxy, a girl who Harry had gone to school with but who had dropped out after the second year. To pursue a career in the military – as Gary told Harry. The curly-headed boy was impressed; and he had to admit that it definitely suited the bad-ass teenager better than one in design – at least in Harry’s books.

At some point during their conversation, Gary looked over Harry’s shoulder and smiled: “Tommo, hey!” Harry spun around and saw Louis walking up to them. The two footballers exchanged a quick hug, clapping each other on the back, before Gary complimented Louis on the two goals he had scored earlier that day. “Ah, yours wasn’t too bad either, mate”, Louis grinned and threw an arm around Gary.

Since he couldn’t contribute anything useful to this football talk, Harry took a sip from whatever was in his cup – something strong tasting like strawberry. And it was getting warm. Harry cringed.

“Alright?” Gary wanted to know.

“Yeah just …” Harry shrugged, “I think I need to get some ice for this … whatever this is.” At Louis’ questioning look, Harry explained: “Niall mixed me something. Doesn’t taste bad but it’s kinda … warm now.”

“To be fair, we talked for quite a bit here …” Gary chuckled and Harry smiled at him. “Yes, listen: Next time you talk to Roxy, say hi from me, yeah?” The footballer raised his beer at Harry. “Will do. Cheers mate.”

Harry nodded at Gary and started walking over to the bar, realising that Louis wasn’t far behind him. Suddenly, Gary called out to him again. The curly-headed teenager whipped around to a grinning footballer: “Nice pants”, Gary said with a smile. Harry chuckled and bowed in mock-seriousness. Once at the makeshift bar, Harry started shuffling some ice into his cup, Louis slid in next to him, refilling his beer. “So … you talked to Gary then …”

Harry chuckled, “Yes, I have. He’s quite nice.”

“For quite some time too …” Louis added, not daring to look at Harry, who couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why, Mr. Tomlinson, if I didn’t know better I’d say you are jealous …”

Even under the dim light on the veranda, Harry saw Louis blushing. “That’s not … I … Niall asked where you were and I … well, went looking for you.”

The curly-headed teenager grinned at Louis. “That’s very kind of you”, he said, poking the footballer in the ribs while passing him. “Where is Niall?”

“Huh?” Louis said, which had Harry laugh out loudly. “Niall. You said he was looking for me.”

“Yes!” Louis exclaimed. “He’s inside … uhm, living room, I think.”

“Right…” Harry said and started walking inside, Louis following yet again behind him. And he did find Niall in the living room, talking to two girls. Harry slid in next to him clapping him on the back. “You did not look for me, did you?”

Niall frowned at Harry, “No. Why?” The curly-haired boy shrugged, “No reason, just asking. I’ll …” he pointed his cup towards the girls, “… leave you to it. Bye girls.”

They started giggling and Harry walked over to Louis yet again. “What uh, what did Niall want?” the footballer asked, a slight blush still dusting his cheeks.

“Uh nothing”, Harry said, leaning onto the wall next to Louis, “He just told me that I might need to get another ride home …” He gestured towards the girls and Louis nodded.

“Right … Wait! Didn’t you say he had someone in Ireland?”

Harry was quite impressed that Louis still remembered that. So Harry just shrugged, “Hey, what do I know?”

The teenager leaning next to him on the wall shrugged as well and took a sip from his drink. Harry still had to smirk. After a few moments, where neither of them said a word, Harry turned his head to look at Louis. “You do know that there wasn’t anything going on with Gary, right?”

The footballer choked on his beer and shook his head, “No. Yes. I mean, I know just …” He sighed, “You just seemed to have so much fun talking to him.”

Harry smiled, “Because we talked about London and places we liked to visit. I don’t know … Don’t get me wrong, I like it here, I really do. But still, London was … is a big part of my life. And sometimes I miss it. Oh! And Roxy! He knows someone who went to school with me for two years. It’s pretty brilliant.”

Louis nodded and took another sip of his beer. “Maybe …” he started, “Maybe we could go one day?” He looked hopefully at Harry. “To London I mean.”

The curly-headed teenager’s face lit up immediately. “Absolutely! Lou, that’s a brilliant idea. We should. We will! Summer’s just around the corner, I’ll visit my Mum anyway so …” Harry clapped his hands together in excitement. Why hadn’t he thought about this in the first place?

Louis smiled and nodded. “Cool. I’d like to go … I mean, I’ll have to work something out for the twins but maybe Lottie can watch them a weekend or so.”

Harry quickly squeezed Louis’ wrist, “We’ll work something out, I promise.” The footballer gave him a sweet smile. All of a sudden, Harry couldn’t wait for summer to come.

“Lou?” he asked after a little while where both teenagers had watched some horrifying dance moves taking place in front of them.

“Hmm?”

“Where’s the bathroom?” Harry was sure that either Liam or Louis had shown it to him earlier but he simply couldn’t remember.

“Oh, yes. There’s one downstairs but …” Louis craned his neck and Harry saw him shaking his head, “Yeah, there’s a queue, let’s go upstairs.”

Harry nodded and followed Louis through the crowd of people onto the first floor. There, the footballer showed him another bathroom and Harry quickly excused himself inside. It had been quite some time since his last bathroom break anyway and Niall’s surely poisonous drink wasn’t helping. Harry swore that he would get a glass of wine as soon as he went downstairs.

Once he got out of the bathroom, Harry saw Louis and Liam, leaning on the wall opposite the bathroom and laughing about something. “Hey Liam … haven’t seen you in a while”, Harry laughed. “Great party by the way!”

“Thanks man, so glad you’re here”, Liam said and hugged the curly-haired boy.

“Sorry for using the upstairs bathroom by the way. Louis showed me up here though …” 

“Thanks a lot for ranting me out man”, Louis said teasingly but Liam only chuckled.

“It’s fine. I know, downstairs it’s madness. And since Louis knows his way around, he’s very welcome to show you around too.” Harry smiled.

Suddenly, loud cheers erupted from downstairs. Catching the word match, Harry looked at the two footballers: “It sounds like something you two should be part of.” So the three teenagers went down, only to witness a justified celebration of the football team. Cheering loudly when Liam, the newly appointed team captain, entered the living room, things escalated quickly, so to speak: One minute Harry leaned onto the wall next to the stairs, watching in amusement how beer was poured over the team as in a weird kind of christening (Harry felt for the floor) and the next he was trapped between Louis and Niall in a questionable kind of group grind (which, Harry supposed, should have been a dance). Still, he laughed and threw his arms around Niall (in front) while Louis was plastered to his back – the three of them swaying with whatever rhythm the group had set. It was beyond awkward but he felt part of the group – something that he hadn’t felt in ages. Not even during his time in London.  
The dancing continued. Soon, Harry found himself in a dance circle with Niall, Louis, Liam, Gary and one of the girls Niall had talked to before. They all jumped around ridiculously, Niall, surprisingly, being the most extravagant of them all, Louis being a bit more reserved but laughing along with them. Getting a bit bolder with the beer diminishing in the bottle, Louis even twirled Harry around once. The curly-headed teenager would be lying of he said his heart hadn’t beaten faster at that.

Once Harry’s shirt clung to his back and his long hair stuck sweatily to his forehead, Harry clapped Niall on the back and pointed to the garden. Niall nodded but continued dancing with the brunette girl. Harry winked at him and made his way over to the bar, noticing that Louis was coming with him. He smiled to himself as he got himself a glass of wine. Louis grabbed another bottle of beer. “Hot in there, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, “Yeah. … Wanna sit in the garden for bit?”

Louis nodded, “Lead the way Styles.”

Cunningly, Harry walked through the crowd of people on the terrace to a more secluded spot in Liam’s garden. Binging some safe distance between the party people and them, Harry sat down at a spot in the grass, where a rhododendron shielded them a bit from prying eyes. Louis sat down right next to Harry, smiling at the curly headed boy. “Nice spot …” Louis said and Harry grinned. Suddenly, the footballer pointed to something behind them: “See that tree over there?”

Harry shrugged, barely able to make out anything due to the lack of light. Still, Louis continued: “Until about a year and a half ago, there was a treehouse up there that Liam and I had built with Liam’s dad when we were kids.”

Harry smiled, “Really?” Louis nodded and Harry could make out a faint blush. “What happened to it?”

The footballer shrugged, “It got knocked down during a thunderstorm.”

“I’m sorry”, Harry said. “So Liam and you were close as kids?” Harry asked.

Louis nodded, “Best friends. He was …” Louis chuckled, “… it sounds cheesy but he was kind of the brother that I never had.” Harry smiled. “But uhm … when I started hanging out with Charlie and Lee and the others, Liam stopped doing things with me. Not right away but … over time. And I understand him but at the time I was too stupid to see it …”

“But why? I mean, from what I see these days, the two of you get along great again.” Louis smiled sweetly and nodded. “So why did you choose them over Liam? You said that it was because Liam was too involved in your family life, which is fair. But … Is that all?” Harry frowned at the footballer sitting next to him. He had asked himself that question for quite some time now. More so as he saw the two footballers joking and laughing with each other every day now.

Louis sighed deeply. Then, he started peeling off the label on the beer bottle. It was kind of awkward for Harry, but he gave the other teenager time. After a few moments of silence, Louis said: “To be completely honest with you: The fact that Liam had started to draw back at the time when he did was kind of … convenient for me.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

Louis looked up at the curly-haired boy: “Because I think that he realised that I … that … that I was into boys much earlier than I have myself.” Harry smiled sincerely and nodded at Louis, who continued: “And, as I have told you, it was something that couldn’t deal with at the time. So him keeping a certain distance was … not fine with me, but you know.”

Harry’s smile was still directed at Louis as he knew how hard it must be for the other boy to admit to being gay. It was a very important first step and Harry was proud of him. “And now that’s better?” the teenager asked.

Louis looked over at Harry with a smile, “Yeah, now it’s better.”

They grinned at each other stupidly before Harry waved his head at the non-existent treehouse. “Would you have taken me up there if it still existed today?”

Louis laughed, “Sure.”

Harry smiled broadly. He let his fingers run lightly over Louis’ wrist lying on his lap. Louis’ fingers moved and entwined his with Harry’s. Sitting there holding hands, both teenagers looked at the party still taking place at the house. Harry took a sip of wine. Louis squeezed Harry’s hand and as the curly headed-teenager looked over, he saw the footballer leaning in slowly after he had taken a look around. Harry gulped. As Louis did not stop, Harry crooked his head – and just in time for Louis’ lips that landed on his. The curly-headed teenager sighed happily, while Louis moved his lips frantically against his. Harry’s head started spinning, his heartrate picked up again and he felt pleasant shivers running down his spine. Between kisses, Harry breathed out: “You sure you wanna do this here?”

Louis moaned and continued kissing the living daylights out of Harry. Well, who was he to complain? The footballer tasted of fresh beer and even though he had been showered with the same liquid not too long ago, Harry could still smell Louis’ lemon scented cologne. Getting a bit bolder, Harry slowly ran a hand up Louis’ chest so he could feel that the footballer’s heart was yet again racing just like his own. The curly-headed boy smiled into the kiss. Suddenly, he could feel Louis’ hands sneak around his waist, stroking his back. Encouraged by Louis’ actions, Harry started to trace his tongue along the other boys’ lower lip and was promptly granted entrance. Both teenagers moaned as soon as their tongues met.

As they stopped kissing to catch their breaths at some point, Louis lay his head down on Harry’s shoulder. Still moving one of his hands over Harry’s back, the footballer whispered, “I really like your shirt …”

Harry chuckled, rubbing Louis’ knee. “Thanks. I hoped that you would like it if I wore it today.”

“Loved it”, Louis mumbled before he placed a kiss next to Harry’s ear.

“AHEM.”

The two teenagers jerked back in complete shock. Once Harry had caught his breath, he saw Liam standing in front of them, silhouetted by the light coming from the house.

“Oh my God”, Louis muttered wiping his mouth and knocking his beer bottle over in the process. While Louis was torn between saying something (“Uh, Liam … hey … it’s … we … you know … uh”), hiding his face in his hands or simply make a run for it, Harry’s eyes simply darted from Liam to Louis. He saw the other footballer trying his best to keep from laughing.

At some point during Louis rambling, Liam took pity on him: “I was looking for you Harry.”

“Me?” Harry exclaimed and Liam nodded. “Why?”

“Uh …” Liam scratched the back of his head, “There seems to be a little situation with our dear friend Niall.”

Harry jumped up immediately in complete disregard for his knee. A second later a sharp pain shot through his entire leg. However, he pushed it to the back of his mind: “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

Liam chuckled, “More than, if the way he is jumping up and down on our dinner table is anything to go by.”

Harry groaned, “Oh dear, not again … He is taking off his clothes as well, isn’t he?”

Liam looked at Harry dumbfounded: “This has happened before?”

Harry pointed his finger at Liam and was aware that Louis was finally getting up from “their” spot in the grass as well. “Word of advice Liam: Never ever give Niall a shot of tequila after he had more than three beers.”

Liam pressed his lips together and nodded, “Duly noted. Can you please help me and get him down from the table?”

“Let’s go …” Harry sighed and started walking towards the house. Liam waited for Louis; then both teenagers joined Harry. A side glace over to Louis told the curly-headed teenager that he was on the brink of a panic attack. Liam, however, saved the night. Walking up between them, he threw an arm around each of them and sighed. “Guys?” he asked. Harry only looked over to the football player while Louis only grumbled something illegibly. “Cool.”

And with that, he started walking ahead of them towards the house. Louis mouth dropped while Harry only giggled. Cool, indeed.

Once Niall was safely secured from the table, Liam had located the Irishman’s shirt and Harry – with the help of the two footballers – brought Niall up to a guestroom where the blonde passed out on the bed immediately, the party started to die down. Then again, it was about two in the morning already. “Don’t tell Niall that, as soon as he was upstairs, the people started leaving”, Louis said with a grin while he and Harry helped Liam to pick up the worst of the trash. Harry laughed while he stuffed a huge pizza box into the garbage bag in his hand. “Where did that even come from?” the curly-headed boy frowned, but soon shook his head and carried on.

“Harry, are you okay to get home? Otherwise, I could set you up on the couch?” Liam suggested but the addressed teenager waved the footballer off. “I’m fine. I’ll just walk.”

Alarmed, Liam looked up from where he was collecting beer bottles. Apparently, the town was still not over his attack. Harry tried his most encouraging smile. To be fair, he had already wondered about how he would get home now that Niall lay passed out in Liam’s guestroom. Not that the Irishman had been fit to drive anyway …

“Don’t worry, Li, we’ll walk home together”, Louis offered which caused the party host to grin.

“Ah. Well, in that case …”

Harry chuckled while Louis looked at a complete loss. When the metaphorical penny dropped, he let his very own garbage bag drop to the floor. “Oi! Don’t get cheeky with me, Payno!”

Liam laughed out loudly and slapped a blushing Louis encouragingly on the back. “I didn’t even say anything …” Liam exclaimed joyfully.

“But you were implying something …” Louis replied. Harry just enjoyed watching the unfolding of events from the side lines.

“Was not …” Liam said and winked.

“There!” Louis exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “You are implying something!”

Liam exhaled dramatically and looked straight at his fellow teammate, “But what on earth would I be implying, Louis? I only saw you and dear Harry over there, cosily snuggled together behind our rhododendron. At about half past one at night. Why would lead this discovery to me implying something? And what precisely, if I may ask?”

Louis looked over at Harry, “Don’t you have anything to say about this?”

Harry smirked, “You’re doing just fine, darling.”

Now Liam burst out laughing to a point where there were tears in his eyes. Louis only gaped while Harry kept smirking. Suddenly, Louis only threw his hands in the air. “Oh bugger all!” he exclaimed before he took the few big steps to walk over to Harry and planted his lips firmly on the other teenagers. Harry escaped a small laugh before he kissed Louis back, hands on Louis’ hips. At Liam’s whistle, the two boys broke apart. “Happy now?” Louis asked towards a smirking Liam.

“Very”, Harry answered in his stead, placing a kiss next to Louis’s ear while one arm remained around his shoulders.

“For God’s sake!” Louis muttered and shook his head.

Now, Liam cleared his throat: “For what it’s worth, I think it’s brilliant.” A blinding smile prove his words to be true, “And, don’t worry: I won’t say anything to anyone. Not unless you two do …”

“Appreciate it, Li. Well, if that’s all, Harry and I are going to go now …” Louis said, blush renewing on his face.

“Hang on …” Liam said and pushed a bag of crisps and a bottle of white wine into Louis’ hands. “Take these. You know, for the way home. I’ve got … more than enough”, the host said with a pointed look to the bar table on the veranda that was still overflowing with snacks and drinks, as if the party hadn’t happened.

“Thanks Liam”, Harry cheered while Louis was already heading for the door.

“You’re welcome, Harry. Thanks for helping me clean up. And …” Liam looked after Louis, “Make sure that he doesn’t hyperventilate, will you?”

Harry saluted, “Will do, thanks Liam.”

The footballer clapped Harry on the back before Harry walked after Louis, who was already halfway out of the door. “Wait up”, Harry called after Louis while he jogged up to him.

“I really just did that, didn’t I?” Louis said, bag of crisps and bottle of white wine still in his hands.

Harry nodded in mock-seriousness. “Yup, I can confirm that you did.”

“Oh God!” the footballer exclaimed and, while wanting to put his head in his hands, he realised that he did not have a free one, “This is a disaster.”

“Now, now”, Harry said, taking the bottle of wine from Louis and screwing it open, “Take a sip.”

Louis looked doubtfully up at Harry, who nodded: “Go ahead.”

The shorter teenager nodded right back at Harry before he took the bottle, taking a huge gulp. And then another one. Harry took the bottle back and had a sip of his own. “Okay, now: Louis, I know that you do not want to hear this right now, but it’s all going to be alright.”

“Will it though?” He looked doubtfully over at Harry, who was walking right next to him on the side of the road. “Oh hell, now I have to come out to everybody. Bloody fucking shit!”

Harry only pointed to the bag of crisps in Louis’ hands. “Eat.” Louis only raised his eyebrows at Harry as if he was crazy. “Open the bag and eat. Now!” Louis did as he was told, Harry was relieved to see: “Right. Louis, now you listen to me: You don’t have to do anything you are not ready for. I am serious.”

“But”, the footballer said with a full mouth, “What if people get to know? Jesus, I was so stupid …”

Wrinkling his nose just slightly at the remnants of potatoes still rolling around in Louis’ mouth, Harry replied: “Louis, are you really under the impression that Liam will rant you out? Seriously?”

“No but …”

“See, then don’t whack your brains about stuff that is not going to happen.” Harry put on a more encouraging voice – at least he hoped that he did: “Liam will never spill your secret before you are ready to tell people yourself. Have you forgotten about his uncles?” 

Louis sighed. Maybe he was finally getting the idea that not everything was as terrible as it seemed at first. “Listen”, Harry started and lay an arm around Louis’ shoulders while the footballer was still munching on crisps, “You take your own time with this. And when you’re ready, you can tell whoever you want. You don’t have to”, Harry used air quotes which was a little weird, seeing that one arm was still around Louis’ shoulder and he held onto the bottle of wine with the other one, “come out to everybody. You can do it one person at a time. And, for what it’s worth, if you let me I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

Louis looked over at the curly-headed boy, “Yes, please. I mean … I’d like that.”

Harry grinned, “Good. Me too.”

They walked together towards the town centre in completely deserted streets, sharing crisps and wine. Suddenly, Louis poked Harry in the side. “Harry?”

“Hm?” the teenager murmured, feeling the effect of the alcohol he had consumed and how tired he actually was.

“I …” Louis started but bit his lip. Only after a few moments he continued: “Do you think I could … uh, stay at your place tonight?”

Louis’ question worked like a shot of the strongest espresso; Harry was awake within a few milliseconds. “What?” the curly-headed teenager almost squeaked.

The footballer shook his head, “No it’s … It was stupid, forget that I asked.”

“It’s not stupid … Just … What uh … Jesus Christ, I don’t want to sound like in a medieval romance novel, but what are you expecting to happen?” Now it was Harry who sported a nice blush.

For a moment, Louis looked confused over at Harry. “OH MY GOD!” he exclaimed after a few moments, probably waking half of the town while doing so. He waved his hands in dismissal, almost dropping the half-empty bag of crisps. “NO! No, Harry that’s not … Fuck, that sounded wrong. I didn’t mean … that at all. Really. Just … I … I am rather confused tonight. A lot of stuff happened and … I guess I just don’t wanna be alone …?”

Harry, who had caught his breath after the initial shock, chuckled nervously: “Oh! Okay, sure.”

“You really don’t have to …” Louis said, clearly embarrassed. 

So Harry took Louis’ hand in his own. “It’s fine Louis. I’d like it a lot if you came back to my place with me. And I’m sorry I … reacted like that. It’s just that … I have never actually had sex”, Harry admitted with a renewed blush.

Louis chuckled quietly, “Even though I can’t stress enough that I really didn’t want it to sound like that, I have to tell you that I don’t mind. Seriously. I have also never done anything like that with a guy …”

Harry sighed, “But I haven’t even done anything even vaguely resembling sex with anyone, guy or girl. I … Our make out sessions are about as far as I have gotten.”

“Well, then I have to say that you are very talented”, Louis smirked while Harry blushed even deeper.

“Thanks. Uhm … it’s just a little terrifying that you have more experience with this, with … sex than I have. Because I really don’t have a clue and I’m afraid that I’ll mess it up …”, Harry admitted.

Louis looked over at Harry with a smile, “Well, than you finally realise how I feel the entire time when I’m with you …”

It felt as if a weight had lifted from Harry’s shoulders, “You are very far from messing anything up, Louis.”

“Right back at ya’”, the footballer said with a smile. Then, both boys shared a quick kiss on the deserted street.

About half an hour later, both teenagers snuggled up in Harry’s bed. Surprisingly, it was not a bit awkward, probably because both teenagers were tired to the bone. After a quick kiss, Louis threw his arm over Harry’s chest who, in return, entwined their feet. “Night Louis.”

“Night willow”, Louis mumbled and it was the first time that Harry fell asleep engulfed by Louis’ lovely lemon scent.  



	14. Chapter 14

Once Harry had woken up the next morning due to a full bladder, he had at first not known why he had been so warm. Usually, he was freezing if as much as a leg stuck out of his blanket – even in summer. That day though, he was pleasantly warm and his bed smelled of lemon … and beer. Last nights’ events slowly came back to Harry and he opened his eyes with a small and pleasant smile on his face. A smile that only widened once he saw Louis, sleeping peacefully next to him. The curly-headed teenager marvelled at how relaxed the other teenager looked. Definitely not what he was used to from their exchanges in school.

As quietly as possible, he got out if bed and went to the bathroom on tiptoes. Having a look in the mirror, the concluded that a shower was due as well. So once he had finished up in the bathroom, he put on some sweats and a T-shirt that he had left in there. Checking his room and seeing that Louis was still sleeping, he went downstairs to meet his aunt … and reduce any potential damage.

Predictably, he found her in the kitchen – this time, however, stirring something on the stove.

“Morning”, Harry greeted his aunt and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, willow. How was the party, did you have fun?” she asked excitedly.

Harry grinned. “Absolutely!” He got himself a mug and poured some tea.

“Splendid”, Aunt Tilda said and kept stirring. “How did you get home last night, by the way?” she asked after a little bit of comfortable silence. “I didn’t hear the rattling of Niall’s precious car.”

Harry snorted. Niall’s car was indeed a bit of a dump, but the Irishman was proud of it and so Harry was proud for him. “Uhm … yeah, about that …” At the teenager’s uncertain voice, his aunt whipped around. Harry already raised his hands in mock surrender: “Hey, don’t freak out, nothing happened. Niall got a bit … _tipsy_ last night, so he stayed at Liam’s.”

“Well, how did you get home then?” Harry’s aunt wanted to know.

“I walked.”

“You walked?” Harry nodded while his aunt looked incredulously at him. “You _walked_?! Harry, why on earth did you not call me? After what happened to you a few months back you simply walked home all by yourself? You can’t be in your right mind, young man!”

The teenager took a deep breath. “I didn’t say I walked home alone, did I?”

His aunt raised an eyebrow, “Who accompanied you, then?”

As if on cue (or in one of those movies Harry enjoyed watching so much) Louis decided that this was the right time to make his presence known. He simply appeared in the doorframe to the kitchen, wearing boxers and the blue T-shirt from last night, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That would have been me, Ms. Selley. Good morning.”

Harry’s aunt was momentarily a loss for words and simply looked back and forth between Louis and the curly-headed teenager. Harry blushed while Louis was clearly too tired to notice how Aunt Tilda was looking at him. “I see. Good morning to you too Louis. Would you like a cup of tea?” Harry shuddered at how pointed each and every sentence sounded.

“Yes, please.” Louis sat down at the table.

Tilda looked at Harry, “Very well. Harry, make your guest some tea.”

The addressed teenager rolled his eyes, but got up and poured Louis some Breakfast Tea as well. Then, he sat down and looked pointedly at his aunt: “Yes?”

“I didn’t say anything …” Aunt Tilda said.

Harry snorted, “But you are dying to say something, so please, say it.”

Harry’s aunt ran a hand through her red hair in an attempt to find the right words. “Alright, first of all: I would like to be made aware if you are having guests over, Harry. Guests who stay overnight …”

The teenager nodded while Louis, who finally got the gist of the conversation, seemed to shrink into his chair. “Fair. This time, it was a last minute decision though and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know that Niall was going to get … tipsy at the party.”

Tilda nodded, “Yes, that makes sense. Still, I can’t ignore that fact that – and Louis, this really is nothing against you dear – “ the footballer only nodded while Harry’s aunt continued, “you walked home with another teenager and let him stay in your room. Most of all because he was involved in … _The Incident_.”

Harry gave his aunt a pointed look, “Aunt Tilda, come on. You know what has happened since then.”

“I do Harry, but what if your mother decided to pay us a surprise visit?” Harry almost dropped his mug. His mother did like to pay surprise visits. And finding Louis sleeping next to Harry she probably would have dragged the footballer out of the bed by his legs. “Oh …”

Harry’s aunt nodded. “Yes, oh. Exactly.” She sighed heavily. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this relationship is going to be anything but easy …”

At this point, Louis looked as if he was praying to the ground to open up and swallow him whole. And Harry couldn’t blame him. Relationship, she had said. Not even Harry had thought ahead that far. Still, Harry gave his aunt a pointed look: “Thanks, Aunt Tilda.”

The older woman sighed, “Oh bollocks, I am crap at this parenting-thing!” And with that, she plopped down at the kitchen table, head in her hands.

After a moment of initial shock, Harry chuckled and sat down next to his aunt. He laid an arm around her shoulders, “No, you are not. Don’t say that Aunt Tilda.”

“But I am”, the woman said, looking at Louis, who sat across the table. “I mean, what am I supposed to say?” Her gaze travelled over to Harry. “Should I throw Louis out and ground you? Should I call you Mum? Should I give you the birds and bees talk?” Harry scrunched his nose while Louis’ head was as red as a tomato by then. “Well, bees and bees talk … or is it the birds and birds? No matter, I guess but my point still stands”, Harry’s aunt continued. “I did not sign up for this!”

While Louis looked as if he wanted to bolt right out the door, Harry patted his aunt’s shoulder, “Don’t worry I’ve had the … whatever talk with Mum. No there’s really no need. And you don’t suck at parenting.”

Now, Harry’s aunt looked directly at him, “But I feel like I should do something, because … Louis has slept here. Then, I know that you are a responsible young man and you wouldn’t do anything …” Harry and Louis raised their eyebrows in unison, “… irresponsible. And I am not under the quite popular illusion that the two of you don’t have sexual urges.”

“Oh my God”, Harry waved his hands in front of his face, “it’s too early for this!”

“It’s past noon, Harry love”, aunt Tilda said with a pointed look.

“Sexual urges, Jesus Christ!” Harry shuddered. It sounded like in an educational programme on TV.

Still, his aunt continued with a pointed look at her nephew, “Even if it doesn’t look like it, I have been your age too about two hundred years ago. I know what it’s like. … OH! The rhubarb!” With that, the red-haired woman jumped up and sprinted over to the stove, staring to stir vigorously. Harry cringed a bit in Louis’ direction once he saw how mortified the other teenager looked. The footballer tried to smile, but failed spectacularly. Then, he contemplated drowning himself in tea judging by the intensity he stared into his mug.

Harry put his hair in a bun: “Even though it’s really none of your business, I can assure you that we haven’t done anything about our … sexual urges, alright? And once we decide to, I’ll make sure it’s safe. I know all about stretching and which stuff one should never use as lube. Oh, and condoms are obligatory, of course. So, is there anything you want to add?” Harry looked sassily at his aunt, who simply raised her eyebrow: “As a matter of fact, there is.”

“Yes?”

His mother’s sister smirked, “It never works like it does in porn.”

Louis, who had just taken a sip of his tea, coughed and Harry – yet again – looked pointedly at his aunt: “Thanks, Aunt Tilda.”

“You are very welcome.” The grin on her face was disgusting.

Once Louis had gone home, head still red, Harry returned to the kitchen where Aunt Tilda was filling the rhubarb jam into previously sterilised glasses. He leaned on the counter, waiting for his aunt to say something. As she focused solely on the jam, Harry sighed: “Was that really necessary?”

She looked up briefly only to continue to fill jam in the glasses immediately afterwards, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“For God’s sake, it really was how I told you: We went home from Liam’s together and … something happened and he didn’t want to be alone. So I told him, since it was past three in the bloody morning, that he could come with me.”

“What happened?” Harry’s aunt looked up sharply at him.

The teenager waved his hand, “Well, now she’s putting the pot down.”

Aunt Tilda asked again: “What happened, Harry?”

“Thhhhaaa”, Harry sighed while he rubbed his eyes, “Okay. So: Louis and I sat out in the garden and kissed and … Liam saw us.” Harry’s aunt cringed. “And he was fine with it but Louis kind of freaked a bit? And I calmed him down on our way home but he was still …” Harry gesticulated wildly, “… off, I think. He told me that he didn’t want to be alone so I suggested that he should come home with me.” Aunt Tilda smiled sympathetically.

Harry looked pointedly at his aunt: “I promise you, nothing happened.”

“I was a bit much, wasn’t I?” She cringed.

Harry nodded, “Just a bit.”

After a brief staring match, the red-haired woman sighed: “Should I send him a fruit basked?” At Harry’s incredulous look, she elaborated, “You know, as an apology?”

“As long as you don’t put lube and condoms in, you should be safe.” Harry grinned and after a few moments, both of them burst out laughing.

“Duly noted”, Harry’s aunt said at which the teenager gave her two thumbs up. Then, Harry left the kitchen while his aunt hollered after him “Where are you going?”

“Calling my Mum …” Harry yelled back while he walked up the wooden stairs.

He heard Tilda coming after him. “Are you going to tell her?”

Harry only slammed the door. There were some things he needed to do in privacy.

After a lengthy two hour talk with his dear mother during which Harry had cursed himself multiple times for thinking this was a good idea, he and his Mum were … good. At first, she had been thrilled once Harry had told her – after their initial small talk – that he was seeing someone. And that someone was a boy. Of course, his Mum being who she was, wanted to know detail after detail about said guy. And that’s where he had told her that is was Louis. “Louis who?” his mother had asked and once he had dropped the last name, his Mum had done the same to her phone. After about ten minutes of “Harry, are you insane?”, “How can you do this?” and “Put your aunt on the phone _right this instant_!” she had calmed down to a degree where she had said: “Okay Harry, explain.” They had talked for over an hour. An hour where Harry had indeed convinced his mother – whose doubts were more than justified, the teenager understood – that Louis wasn’t the bully she had met a few months ago. Finally, she had sighed: “Right. I raised you to be a responsible young man and I suppose I have to trust that you know what you are doing. Still, I cannot stress enough that you have to be careful.”

Harry had smiled and wished that she could see him. “I will Mum.”

“AND! And: I want to meet this changed Louis Tomlinson asap, love. I need to see it for myself.”

Harry’s smile had widened: “Yes, about that ….” Harry had told his mother about their plan of going to London for the summer – and surprisingly, she had thought it a splendid idea. Harry had promised that he would get back at her in a few days when he had had the chance to talk to Louis. Once he had hung up, he took a deep breath and walked out of his room. At the bottom of the stairs, he was greeted by his aunt: “And? How did it go? Did she collapse? Do I have to fear for my life? Do I have to get geese?”

Harry laughed, patting his aunt’s shoulder: “You’re fine. She’s coming around.”

A deep, relieved exhale followed: “Thank God.”

Harry walked towards the kitchen. “I will do a tasting of your new rhubarb jam now, if you don’t mind.” The smile didn’t leave his face for the rest of the day. Things were finally looking up.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry decided to tell Louis about the talk with his Mum on Monday, when Louis didn’t have football practice anymore. The footballer promised that he’d pick Harry up from his by then only weekly therapy session and drive him home. Harry, however, suggested that they drive somewhere where they could talk. “What’s wrong?” Louis asked immediately but Harry only shook his head. “Nothing, I promise.” Looking doubtfully at the curly-haired teenager, Louis had driven to his own house. As they arrived, Harry had raised his eyebrows and Lois had blushed, “It’s deserted this time of day so, yeah …”

Harry smiled, got out of the car and only when he walked into Louis’ room for the first time he realised that he had never been farther than in the family’s living room. Having a look around in the sparsely furnished room – simple wooden bed, desk, an old computer and a lot of posters of football players on the walls – he turned to Louis. “I like your room.”

The other teenager burst out laughing, “Yeah, right.” Louis’ blue eyes sparkled and Harry couldn’t help himself, he had to walk over and kiss the other boy.

Louis sighed and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. The curly-headed teenager just wished that it could always be this normal between them. Well, maybe one day … He pulled back and smiled: “Hey.”

Louis grinned. “Hi” he replied before he stole yet another kiss from Harry’s lips. “You wanted to tell me something …”

“Right”, the other boy said, ran a hand through his hair and pointed towards Louis’ bed. “May I?”

“Sure”, Louis said and walked over with the other teenager, hand in hand. Once they sat down on the mid-blue sheets, the curly-haired boy noticed how nervous Louis was. “Don’t worry, it’s really nothing bad …”

“Okay.” Still, the footballer didn’t seem convinced. “So why couldn’t you tell me at school?”

Harry exhaled, “You know yesterday morning, when Aunt Tilda was freaking out a bit? She’s sorry _again_ by the way …” The curly-haired boy grinned and Louis chuckled. “Thanks. I should get used to this I suppose.”

“Probably a good idea. This is not why I wanted to talk to you, though.” Louis looked expectantly at Harry. “I uh … Aunt Tilda did have a point in all her rambling. When she said that my Mum could have paid us a surprise visit, she was not wrong. So I called Mum right after you left.”

“And you told her?!” the footballer exclaimed, horrified. Harry tried to look as cute as possible when he smiled at the terrified boy sitting opposite of him. “Can we get back to the point where you promised me that what you wanted to tell me wasn’t anything to worry about?”

“But it isn’t!” Harry insisted. At Louis’ raised eyebrows, he continued: “I explained everything to her. And while that might have taken some time, she got it. And she wants to meet you. Properly, I mean.”

The footballer looked at Harry in disbelieve. Harry smiled, “And I thought, we could go to London once school is over after this week.” Louis still didn’t seem convinced, so the curly-haired teenager pressed the footballer’s hand in encouragement. “Not immediately, but sometime. Like we said. It could be a … holiday.”

Louis started his nodding again – and Harry let him. However, he did not let go of the footballer’s hand. Then, Louis looked up at Harry: “This is all going very fast.”

“I know”, Harry said, “And I apologise. But I had to tell my Mum. I won’t tell anyone else, I promise.”

Louis smiled, albeit a bit forced, “I understand. I … I would have told my Mum too.” Harry smiled sadly. The footballer looked at their joined hands for quite some time. Once Louis looked up, Louis said: “We should probably tell Niall. He’ll be so pissed that he finds out last anyway.”

Harry’s grin was blinding. He almost wanted to say something stupid like _‘I love you’_ or something equally sentimental, but he could stop himself just in time. That really would have been too quick.

“We tell him that back when Liam found out, _he_ was too pissed to notice anything at all.”

Louis chuckled although his insecurity was still showing. Harry silenced him with a kiss. “It’s going to be okay …” the curly-headed teenager whispered with closed eyes and he felt Louis nod. “Yeah …” Then, the footballer initiated their next kiss and Harry happily obliged. What should have been one, maybe two kisses turned into a heated snogging session on Louis’ bed. About twenty minutes later, Harry was lying on top of the footballer who, at some point, had dropped back onto his pillows. Harry felt his arms quiver; he was not used to hold himself up for as long as he had to right then. But he didn’t care – at all. Louis was opening up like he never had up to now, moaning quietly while he initiated kiss after kiss. The curly-headed teenager found that he could get used to this.

“Harry …” the footballer breathed out between kisses, when both teenagers took a few much needed breaths.

“Hmmmm?” Harry murmured, already busy tasting his boyfriends’ lips again.

“Ah! I … Can I touch you?” Louis whispered.

Harry chuckled while kissing down Louis’ neck. The puffs of air tickle the footballer, but his breathy laughs came out more like quiet moans. “And where would you like to touch me, if I may ask?” Harry whispered into Louis’ ear, glad that the other student couldn’t see him blush.

Running a hand over the other boys’ chest, Harry felt Louis’ answer as much as he heard it: “I … I want to touch your … uhm, bum?”

Harry chuckled again, blushing even more. He was glad to see that Louis did just the same. The curly-headed teenager grinned, sitting up. Again, Louis groaned loudly – and, sitting up like this, Harry could feel why. He was glad to find out that he wasn’t the only one who got a little excited by their make-out session. Emerald found crystal blue and both boys looked into each other’s eyes while they were breathing heavily. The curly-headed teenager licked his swollen lips while he took Louis’ hands and placed them on his bottom. The footballer exhaled and, slowly, started to slide his hands up and down Harry’s bum. The curly-Headed teenager smiled. “You like that?” Harry asked as if the footballer’s ragged breathing wouldn’t be cue enough.

“Yeah …” the young man lying on his back admitted, blushing. “Do you?”

Harry smiled and leaned down again and, in the process, pressed his erection against Louis’ own. “I do.”

“Oh God!” the footballer moaned and even Harry couldn’t stifle a quiet groan. It just felt too good. Framing the footballer’s face with his hands, the curly-headed boy asked: “Are we really going to do this? Now? Like this?”

Louis only nodded and Harry grinned, “Okay, good.” And with that Harry resumed their kissing. Only this time, Harry didn’t have to hold his body as far up as before. Louis continued running his hands over Harry’s bottom and, once the boy on top started grinding against Louis’ crotch, started guiding Harry’s movements. The curly-headed teenager fisted his hand in the sheets next to Louis while he groaned. Never had been in a position where he had been this … aroused. Feet tangled together, Louis met Harry’s thrusts while their kisses grew increasingly messy. Suddenly, the footballer’s thrusts grew quite frantic and he let a breathy moan out with each of them. Even though Harry himself had never been in a situation like this, he knew what it meant. He started to push a bit harder against his boyfriend, whispering “Yes, Louis … Come for me.” The body under him shuddered while Louis let out a high pitched whine – and then, he went limp. Harry, marvelling at how beautiful the other boy was, started placing kisses all over Louis’ face while he stroke some sweaty pangs of hair from his forehead.

After a few moments, Louis opened his eyes lazily: “Harry …”

The curly-headed boy smiled brightly. “Yes?”

The footballer tried to catch his breath, “This was … brilliant.” They both wore matching grins. “I never knew it could be this good …” the football player admitted shyly.

“I’m glad you think so”, Harry said, wincing when he moved and realised that he … well, had not quite had Louis’ experience yet. Sitting up slowly, Louis finally got why Harry was a little uneasy. “OH!” he exclaimed and Harry blushed. “Oh, sorry.”

The curly-headed boy shook his head, “No apology needed. Just …” Harry’s gaze dropped into his crotch. Blushing, the student looked up at Louis. A grin spread across the footballer’s face. Then, he kissed Harry again while his hand wandered to the bulge in Harry’s jeans. Once Louis placed his hand in Harry’s crotch, the curly-headed teenager’s breath hitched. “Good?” Louis whispered against Harry’s lips. The other boy only nodded, lost in the sensation of his boyfriends’ hand moving against his erection. Whilst they kept kissing feverishly, Harry could feel a familiar tingle at the bottom of his spine. Intensifying the kiss, he ground up against Louis hand a few times before his own climax washed over him with an intensity he had never known before. He groaned low in his throat while he released himself right in his pants. Then, his head sunk onto the shoulder of his boyfriend, who stroke his back.

“You liked it, too?” Louis asked after a little while.

Harry looked up, eyes glassed over, smiling: “Yes. I loved it.”

Louis blushed and Harry pressed another kiss to his lips. The, he inquired: “Are you sure?”

Despite his dizziness, Harry managed to smile at his boyfriend: “Yes, I am.”

Louis let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding: “Good. Good. You know, this being your first time and everything …” The footballer fixed the sheets shyly with his gaze.

Harry put a finger under Louis’ chin and forced him to look up. “It was perfect Louis. Really.” The two teenage boys looked intently at each other. It was Harry, who asked first: “This wasn’t too soon as well, was it?”

Louis smiled so brightly that there were crinkles next to his eyes, “No, as I said: It was amazing.” They kept smiling at each other before Louis said: “Hate to ruin the moment, but we should get cleaned up before my dear sister arrives.”

Harry let himself be led into the Tomlinson’s bathroom while he kept chuckling. “Very romantic, Louis, I have to say …”

It was their last day at school before the holidays.

Harry came running into the cafeteria with a stack of papers in his hand. Once he spotted Louis, sitting at a table with Liam and Niall, he sprinted over (silently thanking his kinky physio therapist for getting his knee to a point where he could do so) and hugged the footballer from behind.

Screaming out in shock, Louis could only relax when he realised that it was Harry who had attacked him. “OI! What do you think you’re doing?”

Completely oblivious to Louis’ almost-heart attack (and the fact that they were in the cafeteria) Harry started placing kisses on Louis’ cheek. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” the curly-headed boy exclaimed in between kisses – much to the horror of just about everyone in the room. Yes, the weird looks Harry and Louis’ new _friendship_ had gained were getting better every day, but judging from the horrified looks they were getting, this was too much. Also, Niall looked at them with a frown.

“Uhm …” was all Louis could manage while Liam was the one with reason. He snatched the papers from Harry’s hands and had a look at them. “Harry passed maths”, he explained.

“Oh …” Louis said and started to giggle, despite himself.

Chewing on his lunch, Niall snatched the papers from Liam, looking the last test of this year over. “Hey, where are my kisses?” the Irishman asked while looking expectantly at Harry, who was still hugging Louis from behind. “In a moment …” Harry chuckled while Liam only rolled his eyes. Thankfully, he kept quiet.

Taking a last, inconspicuous sniff of Louis’ messy hair Harry finally made his way over to Niall and, after sitting down next to him, laid an arm around his shoulder and pressed a wet kiss to Niall’s cheek. “Thanks … I think?” Niall said with a slightly disgusted frown.

“You’re welcome, pumpkin”, Harry chuckled.

Suddenly, Niall pointed at Louis: “He got more than me!” the blonde exclaimed accusingly.

While Louis blushed immediately, Liam chocked on his sandwich.

“You alright there mate?” Niall asked Liam, who croaked a “Fine.”

Harry leaned into Niall. “Can I talk to you later?”

“You can talk to me now”, the Irishman replied but Harry shook his head. “Later.” The curly-headed teenager looked pointedly at Louis, sitting opposite him. The footballer grimaced.

The blonde only shrugged and kept eating.

_The Talk_ with Niall did eventually take place in the school’s parking lot – after school had finished for good and they were looking at weeks and weeks of summer.

“YOU AND LOUIS WHAT?!!!”

As the voice of his dear Irish friend echoed from the school’s brick walls over the thankfully almost empty parking area, Harry’s decision not to tell Niall in the cafeteria payed off.

“Shhh” Louis scolded his fellow footballer, looking around almost panicked. Liam leaned on the hood of Louis’ car, chuckling quietly. Once Niall realised that he did, he pointed at the brown haired student with wide eyes: “YOU! Did you know about this?”

Liam looked guiltily at Niall. “HOW?!”

“Jesus Christ, Niall! Keep it down, will ya?” Louis scolded the Irishman.

“I bloody will NOT!” While Louis threw his hands in the air, Niall kept ranting on, looking accusingly at Harry, “Why does puppy over there know and I don’t?”

“Puppy?” Liam asked, not the least bit offended. If anything, he got more and more amused.

Harry sighed, “Look Niall: Liam saw us at his party.”

“While YOU were lying passed out on Liam’s bed you fucker!” Louis said.

The blonde, however, only waved his hands in front of him. “Seen you? Doing _what_?!”

“Braiding each other’s hair and waving rainbow flags …” Louis replied sarcastically at which Harry only raised an eyebrow.

Niall grinned, “You’re getting slightly homophobic there, Tomlinson. And by the looks of it, Harry doesn’t like it one bit …”

“Oh fucking hell …” Louis muttered and flipped Niall off while getting in his car.

“They were sitting on the grass and Louis was … cuddling Harry” Liam explained.

“Cuddling?!” Louis shouted from inside the car and shuffled out again immediately. “Cuddling?!”

“Yeah”, Liam confirmed and then turned around to face Harry, “Back me up here Harry, will you?”

The addressed boy grinned evilly at Louis, “You did have your head on my shoulder … Probably because we were out of rainbow flags.”

“Traitor!” Louis exclaimed and pointed fiercely at Harry. The curly-headed boy’s grin only widened.

Niall ran a hand through his hair, “You get drunk one time and look what happens …” he shook his head. Again, Harry put his arm around the Irishman’s shoulder, “We meant to tell you and Liam together but … he just saw us by accident. We made Liam promise not to tell anyone yet. Just to … be safe, you know. Please don’t be mad at us …”

“I’m so glad you’re consoling him and not your boyfriend WHO HAS A FUCKING BREAKDOWN IN THE SCHOOL’S PARKING LOT!” By the looks of it, Louis was indeed on the brink of losing it completely. Not that Niall minded.

“Now who is making a scene?” The blonde beamed at Louis, “Also: Boyfriend?”

“Oh bugger all!” Louis said and plopped down next to Liam on the hood of his car. “Help, Liam!”

“You don’t need my help, Louis, you just need to calm down …” the footballer said and patted Louis back. “No one’s here anymore, no one heard, you’re fine.”

“No I’m bloody not …” Louis complained, head in his hands, “This is all just too much …”

“What exactly?” Liam, the man of reason, asked.

Louis threw one of his hands up, “Everything. Everyone knowing … Christ, I have to come out to my family …”

Harry was desperately thinking of something soothing to say but Niall beat him to it: “First of all I am flattered that you think I am everyone Tommo, seriously.” Well, not too soothing, Harry thought, but it was a start.

“Piss off …” Louis muttered, but started to grin a bit.

“Second of all …” Niall emphasised, raising a finger, “you don’t have to come out to your family. I mean, yes, eventually, but not right now, mate. Now I know, that’s the most important thing after all …” Louis glared at Niall, who was not discouraged by it in the slightest: “And also: Do you really think your sisters will care? They _love_ Harry. I mean, Pheebs touched his butterfly …”

Harry visibly shuddered, “Niall, that sounds more than wrong. Please don’t say stuff like that … Ew.”

“Yes Niall, don’t say stuff like that!” Louis parroted pointedly and with a glare.

“You worried about your Dad?” Liam asked. Louis only shrugged. “Oh come on, as if he’d care …” Liam winced, “Okay, that came out wrong.”

Niall snickered, “Came out …” Harry only slapped him.

“What I meant”, Liam emphasised, “… was that with everything that’s on his mind right now, this won’t be his top priority.”

“Yeah, it won’t cheer him up either … Oh God, the football!” Louis exclaimed, head yet again in his hands. “How am I going to play football while being gay?”

Harry, who couldn’t say that he didn’t understand Louis but also thought that he was getting just a tad melodramatic, suggested “How about just like you played up until now? You were gay since you started playing footie, right?”

“Harold …” Louis sighed while he looked at Harry exasperated.

The curly-headed boy pointed his finger at Louis, “Don’t you start like Corden! Also: You’re good, that should be all that matters.”

“But it isn’t … And that’s really everything I’m good at.” Louis said.

Harry shook his head, “First of all, that’s bullshit and you know it. And second”, Harry started, walking up to Louis, “… we just might have to start a revolution once you’re going professional.” Now Harry was standing right in front of the footballer, “What do you say?” He looked at Louis with a grin.

Slowly, the footballer returned his grin, “Only if you’re wearing the mint-green pants.”

“Deal”, Harry smirked before he placed a kiss on his boyfriends’ lips.

“Guys, seriously! You are in public, have a bit of decency!”

At Niall’s comment, Harry grinned into the kiss.


	16. Chapter 16

“Okay, where are we going?”

It was the last day of school. They had received their grades and certificate that very day and now, the holidays lay ahead of them. Right after school had ended, Louis had sprinted up to Harry in the corridor and told him that, if he was free, he wanted to take the curly-headed teenager somewhere without specifying where this _somewhere_ was. Curious, Harry had agreed.

Now, Harry was sitting in Louis’ car, driving to God knew where. They were leaving the town centre, so Harry’s initial thought that Louis wanted to take him out for a date (maybe ice cream or a burger) shrank with every passing second.

Sheepishly, Louis looked over at him. “You’ll see in a minute. I …” he blushed, “I hope you won’t think it’s creepy.”

Harry’s head snapped over to his boyfriend: “Creepy? Well, now you have me worried here …”

Louis bit his lip, “Maybe it was a stupid idea. We should turn around and … get some cake or something.”

Happy to see this insecure side of the usually loud footballer, Harry patted Louis’ leg. “We can get cake after. Now do what you originally planned.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Harry smiled and leaned over to place a quick kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

Once Harry realised what the footballer had planned, his throat closed up and he wasn’t sure he could utter another word. Thankfully, he didn’t need to. Once Louis had pulled up in the parking spot at the local cemetery, he simply got out of the car, leaving a stunned Harry in the passenger’s seat. The other student came over, opened the car door and simply reached his arm out to the curly-headed teenager. Gulping, Harry took it and they went through the imposing iron gate.

Walking along the rows and rows of tombs, hands still joined, neither of them said a word. Looking around, Harry noticed he had never been here. And really, why would he? None of the people he cared for was buried here … unlike his boyfriend. Sighing, he realised that the place was actually nice. There were huge trees planted here and there, plated flowers blooming on the graves and wild ones around them. Harry liked it. It was different than the few times he had been to a cemetery in London.

Suddenly, Louis stopped – and Harry almost ran into him.

They stood between two graves with haphazardly planted wildflowers on them. Without even asking, Harry could see Louis and Lottie, taking the twins here, probably on a Sunday, to pretty up the graves. Harry grinned, despite himself. After a few moments, he heard Louis exhale.

“Hi Mum, hey Fizz.”

The curly-haired boy couldn’t help himself, he felt like he was intruding.

Louis continued, still holding his hand, “How are you?” Harry smiled and looked fondly over at the footballer standing beside him. “Uhm, you’re probably wondering why I’m here … again.” Then, he looked over at Harry, explaining: “I’ve been here after we won the game …”

The curly-haired student smiled at Louis, nodding.

“So … Well, I guess I … wanted to introduce you to Harry here.” The footballer squeezed Harry’s hand fondly. As he didn’t say anything further, Harry stepped in, “Hello, Mrs. Tomlinson, hello … Fizzy.” Inwardly he cringed. He didn’t know if it was okay to call Louis’ sister by her nickname, but to be quite honest, he didn’t know how to pronounce the name on the stone properly. And that would have been even more embarrassing. “It’s nice to …” _‘Meet you?’_ Harry cringed again, “… be here and talk to you.”

Louis chuckled nervously and bit his lip. “Yeah, me and Harry … You know who he is, obviously …” Harry wondered if Louis did this often; come here to both of their graves and talk to them. Considering his moment about telling them about the time their team won at the game, he probably did.

“What you don’t know is … or probably you do … anyways: Uhm, Harry is … He is my boyfriend now. And I … I wanted you to meet him.”

The teenager standing beside the footballer couldn’t help the tears that were welling up in his eyes. It was absolutely overwhelming to be standing here and witnessing Louis telling his Mum and his eldest sister about their relationship.

“So, uhm …” Louis continued, blush evident on his face, “I guess it goes without saying that … well, since Harry is my boyfriend that I want to tell you that I am … gay. And I hope that’s okay for the two of you.” Harry couldn’t stop the tear that was rolling down his cheek. “I know, Mum, that … if you were still here you’d probably tell me that you’d always known or something and Fizzy, you’d tease me relentlessly. And … I just wanted you to know that I’d … I guess I really miss that you’re not around to do or say these things to me.”

Harry chuckled breathlessly and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Looking over at his boyfriend, he only then realised that Louis was crying himself. Harry freed his hand from Louis’ and lay an arm around his shoulder. Immediately, the footballer melted against his shoulder. Harry kissed the other boys’ temple. Then, he fixed the two stones in front of them.

“What I want you to know, Mrs. Tomlinson …” Harry started but he got interrupted by Louis: “The first thing she’d say would be to call her Jay …”

In that moment, Harry realised that he would never actually know what his boyfriends’ mother would sound like, telling him to call her _Jay_. And that felt like a ton of bricks crushing his heart. He gulped: “Alright, Jay. I want you to know that even though your son and I had a bit of a … rocky start, I really like him and I’ll be happy to spend as much time with him as he lets me.”

Louis grinned and squeezed Harry’s side. “Now, Fizzy would tease you for being so polite …”

“Well, I think she has learned that from her older brother …” Harry joked.

Louis huffed, “I really like Harry too, Mum, and … It’s probably not what you’d hoped for my future but … when I’m with Harry I feel like I have one.”

“Jesus Christ”, Harry cursed under his breath while tears sprung to his eyes again. And that guy had to audacity to tell him that he was not good with words.

“What?” Louis looked at him with a frown.

Harry shook his head, wiping his eyes yet again: “You can’t say beautiful stuff like that and not expect any reaction from me, Tomlinson.”

His boyfriend only shrugged, “It’s the truth …”

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, Harry looked Louis in the eyes: “Well, I’m glad then.”

“Me too.” Louis grinned, took a quick look around and placed a small peck on Harry’s lips. Then, he turned towards the two graves again: “One more thing: I know that you have probably other things on your minds or whatever but … If it’s not too much trouble, it would be great if … you could make Dad react … not badly when I tell him. If you can do that …”

Harry smiled and let his hand wander over Louis’ shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “Okay. Bye guys, I’ll be back with the girls next week.”

“Bye. It was a pleasure talking to you”, Harry said before he and Louis walked back to the footballer’s car in much the same manner, as they had arrived. Once they stood next to the red Honda, Louis turned around and looked at Harry. “Was it too much?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Harry exclaimed in shock. As Louis only frowned, Harry waved his hand dramatically: “This was the most amazing thing you could ever do for me, Louis.”

“Really?” the other teenager looked sheepishly at him.

“Yes!” Harry replied enthusiastically, “If we weren’t out in the open like that, I’d snog you senseless right now.”

Louis chuckled and mumbled a “Well, that’s something to look forward to …”

Harry shook his head with a smile. Then, he stepped closer to the other boy: “Louis Tomlinson, this was the best date you could ever take me on. To trust me enough to take me to your Mum and your sister and come out to them … with me there. I don’t even have words. Except: Thank you.” The curly-headed teenager moved into Louis’ space and met the footballer in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Harry”, Louis whispered, “And just for the record: One day, you can kiss me out in the open, I promise.”

Harry pulled back from the hug and smiled broadly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” Louis smiled, “So: Cake?”

Harry chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, cake. Definitely cake.”


End file.
